Heroes Aren't Perfect
by catalinaD
Summary: ...But they can strive to do better. Aine Bird is a thief and - occasional - liar (if you ask her) and the last thing she expects is to be tossed into the very heart of Skyrim's dragon trouble. She teams up with old friends and new - both causing more than a little heartache - as she reluctantly comes to the realization she might just be the hero the beleaguered land needs...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Yes, yes, catalinaD is back! Although this might be fairly temporary (I really hope not because I really hate it when people start a story and leave you hanging in no mans land!) but graveyard shift is no one's friend. So I guess I'm just asking for some patience if I start to lag. I've been working on this story for a while now and while it isn't finished, I'm pretty motivated to do so because I like the way my characters are turning out. So please, dear readers, bear with me and feel free to nudge if there's a silence that stretches too long. Enjoy and, as always, take care!

* * *

"All right, Bird, your turn."

Aine Bird almost rolled her eyes and fought the urge. The darkness was very deep, save the flickering torches the guards held.

"Watch and learn, Perce."

"Quit the pissing contests, you two," This was Meara Kerr's steady voice, "We're running out of time."

Aine allowed Meara to tell her what to do this one time and ignored the little voice that reminded her of dozens of other similar occasions. She tuned her attention to the men guarding the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. The three of them had been traveling for nearly two weeks now, dodging Imperial soldiers and Stormcloaks alike on the roads south of Whiterun.

Percival Coyne was becoming entirely too recognizable to use the carriages by the time they reached the city and Aine hated him even more for involving Meara in that terribly botched job. He just had to go and embroil them in a personal matter where the repercussions would be so much more serious than usual. Meara, of course, stood by her Percival and Aine stood by her best friend; she had never been able to let her down.

She came back to herself and pushed those recollections aside, burying them for later, and watched the guards again. Only one was actually scouting, and she used the term loosely. He paced idly back and forth from one torch-bearer to the other. The night was still enough, she could hear the rumble of voices as they periodically spoke and she couldn't suppress a quiet sigh. She felt Meara lean close.

"I'll have to draw them off. We might be good, but we're not that good," Aine held up one hand when Meara opened her mouth to argue, "There's no other option, Mea. Not unless you want to turn little Perce over and finally end all this insanity?"

Percival's pale eyes flashed even in the faint light and he drew himself up. Meara touched his arm, but didn't look away from Aine.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Then don't," Aine pulled her hood up and nodded at Meara and Percival, "See you on the other side."

She slipped away before either of them could say anything. The border was nothing more than those soldiers guarding the road and Aine used the clutches of boulders and overgrown tangles of snowberries for protection. She eased into these, careful to avoid catching her cloak in the woody branches. There were pebbles all about her and she scooped up a handful, watching the pacing guard. Her fingers moved on their own, digging into one of the pouches on her belt and pulling out two small, smooth black balls. They were a little larger than the pebbles she held and she grasped the handful carefully. She waited until the pacer put his back to her and tossed them all up the road leading back into Skyrim.

The pebbles hit the ground and the balls flashed bright orange in a small contained explosion. It was similar to someone striking a flint, but the effect on those soldiers was instantaneous. All three came to attention. The one pacing came to an abrupt halt and motioned one of the torch-bearers forward. Aine used the distraction and sidled up the road with another handful, this one including three of the little trick stones. She tossed them into the bushes out of direct view of the south road, creating a larger flash. She heard the superior officer command one of his men to follow and then the sound of footsteps echoed to her. It was hard leaving Meara and Percival's line of sight, but she did so anyway, sneaking further up the road. There was very little she wouldn't risk for her friend.

The soldiers came closer and she picked up a larger stone and sacrificed two more tricks. Taking a deep breath, she threw them farther away, risking that torchlight. The gamble paid off, the men went past her and she counted to fifteen before easing back to the border.

The other guard was slumped against one of the stone markers on the side of the road, Meara's work. Aine could see the dark blue end of one of her friend's darts in the man's neck. Nothing fatal, merely a mild concoction that put its victim under for a half-hour or so. His torch was slowly dying at his feet and Aine kept to the shadows, knowing her little trick with the stones would only work for so long.

There was no sign of Meara or Percival and Aine's relief at finally crossing onto her native soil was dampened because of this. She moved forward gingerly, straining to hear them or the soldiers. They had, of course, chosen a moonless night to carry out the escape, and at this precise moment, she really regretted it.

She was roughly a quarter-mile or more from the border when she saw the orange glow of a fire. It was just beyond a small rise and she slowed, eyeing it for the best approach. There was no way her friends would be so stupid as to start a fire _now_ … Well, Percival, maybe, but never Meara.

Aine forced herself to focus and to move. She hunkered down, practically crawling up the rise under the bushes. The frozen ground allowed cold to seep through her gloves and thick leggings, but she ignored it. Besides, the view that greeted her over that rise pretty much made everything else meaningless.

There was the briefest glimpse of the Imperials' standard brown leathers trimmed in red and then a voice spoke.

"Ah, perfect. If you would be so good as to join us, my lady."

Aine sensed the presence beside her and was quite suddenly hauled to her feet. Her body tensed, ready for a fight, but the one holding her was a massive Orc and she didn't stand a chance. He divested her of the dual blades and her knives and shoved her ahead of him into the hollow.

A half-dozen soldiers ringed the area, standing at attention. Meara and Percival each had one guard behind them, blades in hand, and the one that spoke stood more or less in the center. He was tall and lean, his Cyrodiil heritage very apparent. His shiny black hair gleamed in the torchlight and his cool grey eyes were shrewd and intelligent. Aine had difficulty suppressing a shudder when they ran over her body.

"Well, now we can get to business," He spoke calmly, nodding to the Orc who hit Aine in the backs of her knees, forcing her to the ground. He expected her reaction, catching and holding her arms before she could land a punch, "Easy, lady, Bosta does not take kindly to retaliation; it is best if you cooperate. Now, what are we to do? I hear that Solitude has been searching for three subjects that match your descriptions perfectly. Something to do with a theft of a particular jewel, I understand. Fortunately for the owner of said jewel, the Imperial Legion has not been so busy with the Stormcloak uprising that this goes unnoted. What have you to say - Percival, I believe?"

"That was mine to begin with. You can't-"

"Val, now would be an excellent time to shut up and listen. We aren't in any position to do otherwise."

The superior officer looked at Meara in complete surprise that morphed into grudging admiration.

"And here is one with some sense. Perhaps I should have asked your opinion. What _do_ you suggest we do, lady?"

"I won't, sir, because you aren't serious about that request," Meara's voice had that absolute calm that Aine so envied; now more than ever, "And since that's the case, can we move on to the next step?"

Aine watched the emotions cross the man's face and knew this was not an easily impressed individual, nor was he used to opposition. He turned to face her friend fully, his grey eyes intrigued.

"No one speaks to me in that fashion. May I ask why you feel an exception?"

"Why keep putting this off?" Percival demanded, "What the hell are we doing here?"

"Perce, shut up," Aine tried to twist free of the Orc who merely tightened his grip, using that hated nickname to get Percival to pay attention, "For once in your life, just shut up."

"Another voice of reason, but you have not answered my question."

Meara's slanted green eyes glittered in the torchlight, her beautiful face pale under the normal golden glow. Her Altmer blood exuded nobility whether she was noble or not, and it became her better than anyone Aine had met. It certainly gave her some sway and power here, and she clearly meant to utilize it as much as she could. In that moment she looked regal and the guard behind her faded even more into the background.

"It's pointless; meaningless, and I am not interested in playing this game with you, sir. We were sneaking across the border, we got caught, and you're gratuitously postponing our punishment for your own amusement. I'm not playing; let's get this over with."

The Imperial studied Meara for a moment, his face unreadable. Aine could feel Percival's anxiety and when those cold grey eyes landed on hers, she squared herself as best she could. Her chin lifted automatically in that abominable queen look that anyone who knew her well would recommend _not_ testing.

"I see the ladies are of one mind," The Imperial lifted his shoulders and motioned to his men, "I suppose there is nothing left but to take them to Helgen."

Percival's pale eyes were enormous and he went rigid in his guard's grip once he was on his feet. Meara's guard had already ushered her close to Aine and Percival's frightened tones brought everyone to a halt.

"H-Helgen? But that means-"

"You are thieves and were caught sneaking over the border in a time of war. According to your lady, we aren't playing this game. That means I get to decide your fate and this includes Helgen. You can walk to the wagon on your own feet or be dragged there by them," The Imperial turned the full force of that unreadable gaze on him, "The choice is yours, Percival."

Percival looked around at the soldiers, his eyes finally landing on Meara.

"There - there's got to be something we or - or you could do?"

The soldier's brows arched up.

"Could you really be suggesting bribery, Percival? No, no, no, that is not how I - Captain Markos Stychus - operate. No, far too primitive."

Percival blinked and Meara said his name in an undertone. Aina hated the speculative gleam that suddenly ignited in Stychus' eyes and she felt her nerves stretch tight.

"I - I don't-"

"Of course you don't and so I will explain. What would you be willing to give up for freedom, Percival? Or rather… who?"

Cold crept into Aine's heart. Percival looked rapidly between her and Meara, confirming that dark, deeply buried suspicion. She didn't think for a minute Percival would do anything to her on his own, but Stychus… he was something else all together. Her body tensed and Bosta tightened his hold; if she noticed it, she'd be worried about bruises. Meara was entirely still, her hands balled into fists, and Aine didn't like it.

"Who?"

"Exactly: who," Stychus spoke like they were discussing the weather, "I find it interesting. Who would you be willing to give up?"

"Val-"

"Are you serious? You'll really trade freedom for my answer?"

Stychus lifted his shoulders.

"There is only one way to know for sure, isn't there?"

"Val, quit it. He's playing again and we can't give in to this scheme. Please, just-"

"Okay Bird; my answer is Bird," Percival spoke swiftly, desperation in every word.

"Of course it is, ass," Aine snapped, angry, but not the least surprised. Apart from that moment of cold doubt, she agreed with Meara; Stychus wasn't about to do what Percival wanted, it was all a game to him, "Now that you've had your moment of pathetic worthlessness, can we get going?"

"Do not be so hasty - Bird, yes? Percival made his choice. Tell me, would you do the same?"

Aine only hesitated a moment and felt the heat of Meara's look.

"As tempting as it is right now, no, I wouldn't. I can't - No, no, Meara's right. We're not playing this game."

Stychus looked very disappointed for a brief moment and then he nodded his head.

"Fair enough. I suppose one cannot win them all. But, Percival, I am in the habit of rewarding raw honesty when I hear it and I intend to do so now."

Aine was struck absolutely speechless as her body tensed for the blow. Meara's lips parted and Stychus' hand moved so fast it was nothing but a blur. Aine squeezed her eyes shut, but opened them a moment later when Percival let out a hoarse 'no'. Her gaze went to him first and then to Meara when she crumpled. She was on her knees, her shocked eyes on the elaborate hilt jutting from her chest. Her hands made a weak gesture as though to pull the blade free and then she lost whatever reserves of strength that kept her upright. She collapsed to the frozen ground and went still.

"You bastard! You lousy little _bastard!_ "

Aine's sudden dive at Stychus even threw Bosta. He lost his grip on her and she tackled the Imperial. He was caught off-guard and staggered back under her weight. She pummeled anything she could reach, still shouting, and everything seemed absolute chaos for a moment. She could hear Percival saying Meara's name rather indistinctly, felt tears staining her cheeks, and then something hard crashed into her skull and everything went black.

* * *

Aine's first thought was that she was on a boat; until there was a tremendous lurch that set off fireworks in her head. She could hear the horses' hooves then and the soothing command of their handler. Bits and pieces were coming back to her now, the prominent one Meara's pale, lifeless face… and she jerked upright.

The fireworks exploded into blinding stars and she swore roundly, sinking back down and reaching up to cradle her head. Her wrists were bound and the ties dug painfully into her skin, but she hardly felt it. Her best friend was dead, she was gone forever, snuffed out like she was nothing, and that was all that mattered. The wagon lurched again, the stars brightening, and she felt tears burn in her eyes. She pressed her palms to her face and shifted in an attempt to ease some of the pain. Blood pounded in her ears and she slowly started upright.

"Easy, girl, that's a nasty lump on your head," The man's voice was deep and calm, "You won't be doing yourself any favors."

She opened her eyes and met the man's gaze, leaning back against the short wagon-wall behind her. He was older than her by about five or maybe ten years with dirty blond hair, dark blue eyes, and broad heavy shoulders. He was most clearly a Nord and his despondent expression somehow didn't suit him. Aine shifted her attention to their surroundings; anything to distract from the pain.

They were winding along the dirt road around piles of boulders, towering firs and cedars, and tangled clumps of snowberries and other shrubs. Snow clung to the shaded areas between the rocks and under the trees, and the sky was piled with menacing grey clouds over the nearby mountain range. Two soldiers followed the wagon on horseback and that prevented any of them jumping out, despite the fact that it would be a very simple task. The wagon was open, two benches facing each other. Aine was across from the Nord, close to the coachman. Next to him was a small-framed Breton with wild dark hair and very nervous eyes; on Aine's side another Nord sat, hunched forward. His hair was darker than the other's, his eyes deep brown, and his face roughly handsome. His once fine armor was dusty and dirty and the gag over his mouth made Aine frown. She found herself looking more closely at him and noticed that the bindings on his wrists looped through a sturdy belt around his waist, preventing him from lifting his hands more than a few inches.

"Don't know him, do you, girl?"

Aine was too slow in looking away from the man and his dark eyes, intelligent and _very_ intense, found hers. She fought the urge to drop her gaze, her stubborn nature taking over her grief for a moment, and she gave him a nod. His eyes may have given a little flicker, but he looked away and she couldn't be sure. She met the other Nord's almost amused glance and started to shake her head. The stabs of pain stopped her short and she closed her eyes.

"No," She answered and heard how hoarse her voice was, "And I don't think I care. What happened to Percival?"

The Nord blinked at her when she looked at him again. He glanced at the other two and then lifted his shoulders.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, girl. When we got caught, you were already on board, alone. The way these dogs have been talking, you were caught stealing across the border. They're claiming you're a deserter," He held up his hands to stop her arguments and actually smiled a little, "I don't believe it, girl, even though you are an Imperial. You don't look the dog type."

Impossibly, Aine felt a smile curve her mouth. It was humorless, but a smile none-the-less; she enjoyed his blunt honesty.

"Aine, my name is Aine."

He arched his brows a bit and studied her with a thoroughness that made her feel self-conscious.

"Ralof."

She gave him a nod; those hurt a little less than the head shakes.

"Shut up back there!"

The coachman's order was harsh and the little Breton ignored it. He had been studying the Nord across from him while Aine and Ralof talked and now he glanced at Ralof.

"What do you mean, Nord? Who is this?"

"You haven't been paying much attention, have you, horse thief?" Ralof's voice was dripping with disdain, never mind Aine herself hadn't known who the Nord was, "To think that a man of the proper fighting age doesn't recognize Ulfric Stormcloak."

The Breton reeled back as though Ralof physically struck him and his nervous eyes were suddenly terrified.

"Ulfric St-Stormcloak? But that means-"

"Helgen will be as far you go, thief."

Aine welcomed the distraction that Ralof's curious morals brought about. He was an old-fashioned Nord which interested her; the kind that disapproved of women fighting and had a funny quirk that told him thievery was worse than desertion. _Not true_. A little voice in her head murmured. _He doesn't believe the desertion story. Besides, if he did, he'd probably approve of an Imperial deserting the Imperials…_ She shook it away. The voice sounded too much like Meara and she glanced over at Ulfric.

The Breton's fear was entirely understandable. Here was the man that had killed Skyrim's high king with just his voice and that was _not_ a good sign for the rest of them. No matter what else happened, wherever this wagon came to a stop, it meant the axe for Ulfric Stormcloak and the Breton was now trembling. Aine and her cohorts hadn't paid much attention to the political upheaval in the country, save that it made some of their more questionable exploits easier to pull off, but even they had known that Ulfric's blood would be the only thing to satisfy the Imperials in Skyrim. Thoughts of past exploits were painful, terribly painful, and she closed her eyes on those burning tears. At this precise moment, she didn't give a damn about dying. Unless, of course, she was given an impossible opportunity to tear Stychus and Percival apart piece by piece, but Percival was undoubtedly dead and Stychus was torturing other travelers attempting the border.

"And here we are," Ralof spoke almost dreamily, "I used to be sweet on a girl here… Hilde, her name was. Huh, wonder if the tavern is still serving that mead with juniper berries…"

Aine opened her eyes and felt her heart begin to thump with dread, never mind her conviction. The Breton was frantically praying to any deity he could name and Ulfric remained still and passive.

"Is General Tullius ready?" Their coachman called as the wagon bounced down the road and through the thick stone wall surrounding Helgen.

"Been waiting for you, Lucas, go on through."

Helgen was quaint and compact. The small fort sat in the center of the walled town, its tower stark against the sky. Private homes were to the east while businesses were to the west and the wagon moved past these to an open courtyard in front of the tower and barracks. Another wagon was already there, its prisoners, mostly Nords which led Aine to believe they were more Stormcloaks, grouped with their guards. Townsfolk milled about, waiting with morbid curiousity for the outcome of the morning's execution. Aine heard a father order his son home to his mother and an elderly woman beseeched her daughter to get her back to the house. Her heart was fluttering madly within her and the wagon came to a stop near its counterpart. The pain in her head was no longer a priority, fear was and it was tangible.

"Come on, now, out."

The soldier removed the sliding panel and kicked a small step-stool to the wagon. Ulfric was the first to move and his presence caused a tremor to roll through the gathered throng. People began murmuring and one man was brave enough to call out.

"Long live Ulfric, true king of Skyrim!"

Save a few black looks and no doubt promises to make his life hell later, the comment went ignored. The Imperials kept their attention on their prisoners. The Breton went next, his eyes on the two Legion officers that had moved closer to their wagon. One was a small, sturdy woman whose helm gleamed even in the grey light of the day over her hard face. The man beside her was tall and strongly built, his reddish hair free of the Imperial helm. He was making notations in a leather bound ledger as the prisoners left the wagon and he had just parted his lips to speak when the Breton snapped.

"No, no, this isn't happening! I'm not getting slaughtered like a pig, I won't!"

Aine had clumsily made it to the stool, Ralof's hands steadying her, and they both watched in shocked surprise as the little man took off. Shouts went up and the woman officer took control immediately.

"Archers!"

The Breton never had a chance. Aine slipped to the ground, afraid she was going to loose her balance on that stool, and two arrows sank into the Breton's back, dropping him. Ralof was beside her.

"Coward," He muttered darkly.

The male Legion officer turned back to them and the archers moved to take care of the Breton's body. He lifted his ledger.

"Still the same Ralof, huh? Truth be told, I think I'm rather disappointed this will be the last time I see you, but I suppose all good things must come to an…" His voice trailed off and he frowned at Aine, "What's this? Who are you?"

She blinked, glancing quickly at Ralof who looked as surprised as she felt. Even Ulfric, over his shoulder, watched with a furrowed brow. Aine's skin prickled as those intense eyes moved over her and then she focused on the Imperial. Two more soldiers had moved in, standing at the officer's elbow, and this whole thing seemed suddenly ridiculous; pointless, and Aine felt her temper flare.

"Brilliant, just brilliant. If this is how the Imperial Legion handles a simple execution, why I simply can't imagine why the Nords want to be rid of you. Very competent, well done."

One of the two soldiers stepped forward, slapping her across the face before she had a chance to blink. The blow sent her reeling back into Ralof who caught her as well as he could. Her head throbbed angrily and she could taste blood where her teeth caught her tongue.

"You will show the Empire respect!"

"That's enough, Gauis, I won't stand for that behavior," The officer spoke firmly, not in the mood to be trifled with. His eyes found Aine's, "The point was made, lady, now answer my question."

Aine stepped away from Ralof, touching her cheek with her bound hands. She gave the one who hit her a black look and faced the officer, holding her head high.

"My name is Aine, I was sneaking across the border into Cyrodiil and caught by a special bastard named Markos Stychus. And here I am. If you would like further details, I would suggest asking him. As long as he's not too busy torching homes for fun and torturing innocents."

The Imperial's eyes flickered a little and he gave her a nod.

"I'm very familiar with Captain Stychus' methods," He replied and for the briefest moment, Aine was almost hopeful, "I appreciate your honesty; I had no notice. Let's get this over with."

The guards moved in then, ushering them closer to the stained block where the woman officer stood with the executioner. A priestess broke from the crowd and stood forward, beginning what promised to be a long, drawn-out blessing-scolding for the prisoners' souls. Her orange and yellow robes shimmered in a way that said they possessed some enchantment, and Aine studied the gleam as her thoughts wandered. She saw Meara's pretty face, that warm smile she'd worn when they first met on Solitude's streets on Aine's twelfth birthday. She had been fourteen, an urchin like Aine, and they were inseparable from then on. Meara had been maternal, patient, that loving protection Aine had always craved; and Aine's impulsive nature had given Meara the chance to play mother hen which was what she had wanted. The Altmer had been Aine's dearest friend for so long, her voice of reason and compass, and now…

One of the Nords finally lost patience with the priestess and he broke up Aine's recollections.

"All right, enough of this nonsense," He interrupted the endless flow of words in a raspy voice, striding forward with his head held high, "Ready your axe, dog, Sovngarde awaits."

There was something hauntingly beautiful in this man's sacrifice and Aine couldn't help but wish his soul on to his Sovngarde when the axe whistled down. A predictable gasp escaped a few of the women gathered, but it was the sound that came after that had them all looking about. It was close to the roar of a cave bear, but this was larger and much louder. The guards exchanged glances and Aine looked at Ralof when he said Ulfric's name. Ulfric had tensed, his eyes fixed on the mountain range. The only one to remain untouched was the woman officer and her grating voice was entirely too loud.

"You next, girl. Now."

Aine's heart beat uncomfortably fast and she worried her legs would fail her when she moved forward. One of the guards kicked the Nord's body out of the way and the roar echoed again. It still came from the mountains, but seemed somehow higher. The echoes faded slowly and Aine met the gaze of the Imperial with the ledger. He looked apologetic, but didn't speak.

"On your knees," The woman barked, still ignoring the strange roars, "You do not want us to make you."

Aine looked down at the block. The Nord's blood glistened and she thought of Meara again, slaughtered on some asshole's whim, drunk on his own power… She dropped to her knees, hardly feeling the pain from the frozen ground. As she put her head on the block a few mutinous tears escaped her. Before she could squeeze her eyes shut on them, a dark shape swooped overhead. It disappeared from view, the executioner raised his axe, and then something huge landed on the tower behind the Legion officers.

Everything slowed. Aine was sure she heard the ridiculous shout of 'dragon' and then the sky erupted with flames. The woman officer and executioner began screaming and she felt heat scorch over her. Chaos now reigned and she took full advantage. She rolled away from the killing field and froze when the dragon - an actual, _huge_ dragon - lifted from the tower and took to the skies.

More screams sounded and people were running madly in all directions. Fires burned both in the thatched roofs and in large patches on the ground and the dragon's roars were deafening. The horses panicked, bolting for the open gate in the wall, the wagons bouncing wildly and soldiers scrambled to put up whatever defenses they could. Their expressions were terrified, but at least they were acting which prompted Aine. She struggled to her feet, seeing Ulfric surrounded by some of the other Nords, and then more fire came down and she ducked away.

The flames danced crazily in the down-draft of the dragon's wings and Aine could just barely make out Ralof's shout. He stood silhouetted in the tower's doorway and she ran toward him, her movements clumsy because of the ties on her wrists. She heard that ominous sound of wings behind her and dove through the doorway, fire at her heels.

Ralof shoved the door closed, jumping back when it began smoking. Aine scrambled up and barely registered the other two in the room with them.

"Come on," Ralof motioned to the spiral stairs where one of the men was already standing, "There's a way to the next building up here. Keep moving."

They were half-way up the steps, Aine was just about to turn and ask Ralof to cut her free, when the side of the tower burst inward. The man she followed was crushed under the heavy stones and Ralof grabbed her roughly, yanking her against the wall and sheltering her from the flames that spewed in front of them. He pushed her forward again as soon as they ceased.

"Keep going, Aine, it's just ahead."

She felt everything within her protest this action, but she did as he said. The rubble made the going a bit more difficult, but fear was helpful here and she reached another gaping hole in the tower wall. This one looked like it had once been a doorway, rubble blocked the rest of the stairs leading up, and through the hole, she could see the building that had connected here. It was roughly fifteen or twenty feet ahead and a good drop below. The roof had caught fire and part of it caved inward, revealing what looked like a sound floor beneath… for now.

Aine looked at Ralof rather helplessly.

"Now what?"

"Now we jump," Ralof spoke calmly, like they were carrying on a normal conversation. The man behind him looked impatient, but remained silent. The Nord went on when Aine blanched, "No choice, Aine, jump. Now."

He half-threw her out of the opening in the wall and she landed hard on the wooden floor of the building. She rolled across the floorboards to mitigate some of the damage and ducked her head when debris rained down on her. There was a sickening lurch as some of the building's support gave and she decided against waiting for the others. The stairs were already ablaze and she had no choice but to drop from the open landing. Heat scorched her and her body protested the second impact rather fiercely, but she shook it off and raced for the door.

Outside wasn't much better.

Fires surrounded her and she couldn't really tell up from down in the chaos. Movement ahead finally drew her and she tried to hold her breath when the heated air burned in her throat. The dragon could be heard over the crackling flames and the sounds of the buildings caving in, and the movement turned out to be the Imperial officer. His ledger was replaced with a wicked-looking mace and he stood in a fighters' stance, looking at someone who stood out of Aine's line of sight. As she drew closer, expecting to hear Ralof and the other man come behind her at any moment, she could make out the Imperial's words.

"Don't be such a damned fool, Ralof!" She perked at the Imperial's words, wondering how the hell the Nord had gotten out of the tower and over this way so quickly, "Stay out of the way!"

"Then hand her over, Hadvar, I won't ask again!"

Aine picked up the pace and finally came level with the Imperial. She could make out Ralof's figure against the orange blaze, through the haze of heat and smoke. He was alone this time and there was something rather endearing in the way he wanted to look after her. The practical side of her brain barked at her to focus and she wished for the hundredth time that her hands were free. Ralof finally spotted her and she could practically feel his relief.

"Aine! Come, this way!"

Hadvar glanced over his shoulder at her and smoothly turned himself so he could keep an eye on both of them, his expression hard. Aine started forward and then stopped, watching him warily. He hadn't made any physical move to stop her, but as she moved again, he couldn't seem to help but chastise her.

"Tie yourself to him, lady, and you'll never have a moment's peace."

"But I will with you? No thank you, sir, I'll take my chances with the Stormcloaks this time, I didn't care for the Legion's methods."

Hadvar gave her a searching look and then stepped back and lowered his mace. He looked annoyed now.

"I don't have time for this. Get out of here before I change my mind."

"Like you ever had a choice, Hadvar," Ralof actually gave the Imperial a smile, "Until next time."

Aine finally reached him and they left Hadvar to deal with his issues. Ralof led her into another of the fort's out-buildings, avoiding the fires and the dragon's deadly dives. The interior of the building was large and dim with a gated doorway directly ahead and a large wooden door to the right of it. There was also the sprawled body of a dead Stormcloak and Ralof's face darkened.

"So much for saving Ulfric. Go ahead, Aine, take what you need."

She arched her brows and lifted her hands.

"Care to make that a little easier?"

Ralof looked chagrined and stepped closer. He took her hands in his and Aine noted the gold flecks in his blue eyes. His features were handsome in the same rough way Ulfric's were and she gave herself a mental shake. He cut her loose and inspected the room while she stripped the dead Stormcloak. The armor was too big and felt awkward on her, but it was better than nothing. She missed her knives with a passion while she took up the dropped mace and swung it a few times to get a feel for it and the discomfort didn't last long. Ralof hissed for silence and motioned her to the shadows. She could hear the hurried steps and hushed voices. A moment later, the large gate rattled upward and two Imperial Legion soldiers emerged.

"What the hell's going on?" One of them said.

Neither one of them saw Aine or Ralof until the Nord stepped forward, his sword raised.

"We'll take the key to that door."

Both soldiers turned about and jumped at them without a word. Aine felt terror pool into her belly when one bore down on her. Her past exploits with Meara and Percival had involved stealth and deception; they had avoided violence because of the multiplied risks. Now though…

Her self-preservation kicked in and she threw the mace up to parry the incoming blow. She staggered under the man's weight and then danced away from him, landing a blow to his back. He was quick on his feet, turning on her, but she was ready for him. Her mace slammed into his chest and he stumbled backward into a collection of tall, heavy candlesticks. He got tangled in them and Aine didn't feel right about attacking him in the moment.

"Aine!"

She glanced at Ralof and in that split-second, the guard acted. He threw himself at her, Aine shoved him back with her mace, and he fell into Ralof's ready sword. The tip jutted from his chest and she dropped her hands to her sides. Ralof's blue eyes met hers as the Imperial's body slumped to the floor.

"You can't hesitate, Aine. You really think he wouldn't take advantage of a tumble you took? That's a good way to get yourself killed, girl."

Aine knew exactly what he meant, but her old nature had taken hold of her; that nature that got waspish when confronted with something she'd rather not discuss and she tried to stem some of it at least. Ralof had been too kind to her to treat him like that.

"Should we have this conversation with the rest of the Legion when they show up? They might have some pointers. Do either of them have the key you mentioned?"

The scheme worked despite her sarcasm and Ralof came up with the key. They could hear the dragon roar outside and the building trembled around them. Ralof forgot his scolding and unlocked the door. They pressed on down the slanted hall that led into the earth. A soft glow came from what turned out to be a large kitchen whose fires still smoked through their chimneys. Ralof began rifling in the barrels and crates, unearthing a satchel he began packing with provisions. Dust and small debris kept raining down on them and they didn't tarry long. The earthen hall twisted further and Ralof suddenly held up one hand. Aine could hear voices and she readied her weapon, trying to swallow at least some of her fear. The Nord gave her a stern look she ignored and then eased into the room.

This time it was two against three and one of them was a sorcerer. Ralof immediately threw himself forward and Aine spotted a small collection of wicked-looking knives on a nearby table. She dove for them, feeling the white-hot heat from the spell that scorched over her. Before the man got a chance to cast again, she threw the knife. It sank into the sorcerer's chest and he dropped. It reminded her sharply of Meara and the thought caught her entirely off-guard. Her second throw wasn't nearly as true. The knife landed in one of the guards' thigh and his cry of agony made her shudder. Ralof dispatched both of the men and decided against speaking to Aine when he caught the pale horror on her face. Now was clearly not the time to corner her on the finer points of combat.

She felt somewhat better about her first kill when she saw they stood in a torture chamber. They gathered the few supplies they could find and Aine retrieved both knives along with scabbards to match. They moved on, the tunnels losing some of the man-made influences and becoming natural formations. More opposition greeted them and Ralof wasn't the least surprised to run into two fellow Stormcloaks. They were introduced as brothers and she learned that Ulfric's rescue had been planned for some time. The brothers were more than relieved to learn their leader had already been sprung and they agreed to go along with Ralof and Aine. The tunnel continued down and finally ended in a tumble of boulders.

"It's this way," One of the brothers offered and motioned to a small opening in the wall beside the slide. It was dank and rather cramped, but the air flowing through had a fresh undercurrent, "That caved in not long after the trouble started up above."

Ralof led the way and the sound of water greeted them. This was clearly the fort's fresh water supply and so it was not surprising to find it guarded. Between the four of them, they made quick work of the soldiers and Aine's reluctance was slowly fading. She still felt her stomach churn each time she cut one of these lives short, but it was a necessity. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

"Easy," It was the other brother this time and he reached out to take hold of Ralof's arm before the Nord could continue down the path, "We didn't see it, but there's a cave bear in a cavern not far from here. Let's not take any unnecessary risks."

Ralof gave him a nod and did not give up the lead. Aine was amused and a bit annoyed when the men jostled her to the center of their line in an attempt to keep her safe; never mind that it was rather endearing. They crossed into a huge cavern that was truly natural and the water bubbled cheerfully beside them. Ahead an opening gaped in the cavern wall and the brothers both waved at it. Ralof's hand tightened on his sword and they all tiptoed forward. Aine could smell the musty, rotten meat odor of the bear and she didn't realize she held her breath until they were clear of the cavern and standing at the base of a path that twisted up into a faint glow of daylight.

She was free.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Well, so far I'm off to a great start. I hope I can keep that up for you guys. Thanks to all that took the time to read the first chapter and I hope you enjoy this one! All the best! And, of course, I don't own Skyrim or anything belonging officially to Bethesda... _damn!_

* * *

The outside air felt incredible and Aine stood still, breathing deeply until Ralof jerked her roughly to a clutch of boulders beside the opening of the cavern. The brothers followed and they ducked against the rocks as the dragon roared overhead a second time. It soared over them and Ralof muttered a few curses under his breath when the creature flew north and a bit east.

"It looks like it's heading for Whiterun and you two should get after Ulfric."

One of the brothers nodded while the other frowned. Aine had no idea which was which and she wasn't entirely sure she cared.

"What about you, Ralof?"

"We'll get to Riverwood and make sure Jarl Balgruuf is warned. Thanks for your help. If not in this life then in Sovngarde."

The brothers returned the sentiment and disappeared into the bushes, heading west. Aine looked at Ralof and arched her brows. They were close enough she caught those strange gold flecks again.

"We? We are heading to Riverwood? And then Whiterun?"

"You still have thoughts of getting out? Even after this?"

"I would say especially after this. Dragons are supposed to be extinct, Ralof, this shouldn't be happening and you really think I want-"

She abruptly stopped talking when he reached out and swept her hair aside, his fingertips grazing her neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps she'd rather stayed hidden. Her eyes fixed on his face and she watched him frown in concern.

"You hurt?" He asked, tipping her chin to get a better look at her, "You're bleeding."

His thumb was too close to the pulse throbbing in her neck and she pulled herself away before swallowing with some difficulty and feeling her neck with her hand. There was no pain and she couldn't feel any broken skin. She looked back up at him and felt her cheeks slowly losing their heat. Ralof's expression was still concerned, but there was a warm amusement in his eyes that told her her reactions had not gone unnoticed. She did her best to move on.

"No," Her voice was low and hoarse and she cursed inwardly, "No, I'm fine. I think it's your fellow Nord's blood. I'm sorry, Ralof, he seemed a good, brave man."

Ralof nodded.

"He was. A good warrior, he'll be missed," He took her elbow in one hand and ushered her away from the boulders, "Now, come on, we'll get to Riverwood and decide what to do from there. My sister and her husband are held in high regard there, we'll be safe and they can get us whatever we need."

Aine pulled her arm from his grip, not sure she was comfortable with how he made her feel… at least at this precise moment. She shook herself.

"Ralof-"

"At least let Gerdur get you some supplies and a bed to sleep in for a few hours before you try again," He slid his sword back into the scabbard at his hip and his dark blue eyes went down over her body, "And add a set of armor that actually fits you, too. Really, Aine, it's only a half-mile from here, it won't take long at all."

Aine let out a sigh and gave in. She waved one hand at him and they started down the path to the road. It was worn and well-used, the bushes lining it beautiful with their pale blossoms and bright berries. This vegetation was as hardy as the Nords themselves, blooming and producing no matter how viciously cold it got. Aine had always found it remarkable: that tenacity in something as seemingly fragile as plant life. Her thoughts followed this rabbit warren for as long as she could force it and then they threatened to turn to Meara. She had to distract herself and she jumped at the first idea that popped into her head.

"Why help me, Ralof? I mean, when that thing attacked and everything went to hell, you could have taken off. Why wait around for me?"

Ralof looked genuinely surprised at the question. He studied her for a moment and then turned his attention back to the road.

"Did you ever have a feeling about someone, Aine? Just a twinge in your gut that told you someone was going to be worth your while or something special?"

Aine felt her temper flair and she stopped walking.

"Are you really telling me you saved my life for a tumble? You can't be such a fool. Tell me the truth."

The Nord pulled her forward, keeping her moving even as she tried setting her heels. His voice was very patient.

"And you're smart enough to know I'm already telling you the truth. If this was about a tumble…" He let go of her and pressed on without elaborating on that, "You're a good sort, girl, and that wasn't the fate for you. I don't believe any of the claims those dogs made and taking care of you was one way to turn that into a positive."

She studied his profile, taking that in. She still couldn't believe it was _so_ innocent, but that was the last complication she needed right now. The silence had stretched long enough to become awkward and she gave a single nod.

"Okay, fair enough. But don't be disappointed if I turn out a huge failure and complete waste of your time."

"You won't."

They fell silent again and Aine realized this had at least distracted her Meara. In fact, it worked like a charm. She kept running over people she had met and worked with, testing them against what Ralof said and finding that, in a few instances, he was right. She was brought to a halt when Ralof pointed across the river below them.

"Bleak Falls Barrow," He spoke almost randomly like the silence was beginning to wear at him, "I never could understand how Gerdur could live in its shadow."

Aine followed his finger to the collapsed roofs of the barrow. They stood on the road, looking down at the river, and the opposite shore rose straight out of the water. Bleak Falls was situated on the peaks that cut jagged shapes against a grey sky. Aine, not particularly superstitious about the dead, nevertheless had to admit there was something eerie about the broken pillars and age-darkened stone, even at the distance they stood.

"So we're close?"

"Just down the hill. You can see the top of Hod's mill there."

Aine could just see the thatched roof through the branches and then they were passing through Riverwood's stone gate. The little village was quietly busy, residents going about their day and children running about with their dogs. The smithy rang with rhythmic clangs and the mill grew louder as Ralof led her that way. The Nord's name was called occasionally, but other than polite waves or monosyllabic answers, he didn't pause for conversation.

"There she is," He finally said and motioned to a fair-haired woman pulling laundry from a line behind a large handsome home, "Gerdur!"

The woman turned at his shout and even with the distance, Aine could see her delight. She dropped the sheet into her wicker basket and hurried forward, throwing her arms around Ralof.

"You're safe!" She exclaimed, stepping back to get a look at him, "We heard rumors, awful rumors and… I'm so glad you're home."

She hugged him again and Ralof was the one to pull away.

"Gerdur, this is Aine, a friend," He turned a serious look on his sister, "We need to talk."

Gerdur gave Aine a once-over and frowned at Ralof. She was striking with almost white-blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a finely featured face. She was maybe a few years older than Ralof and her frown was not one of unbelief.

"Come with me."

She led the way to the mill where a tall, bear-like man was overseeing the splitting of the massive logs.

"Hod! Hod, come down! Ralof's here and we need to talk!"

Hod's face broke into a smile, transforming his features from rather unremarkable to quite handsome. He motioned to two of the men with him and one stepped forward to take his place. He dropped to the ground and slapped Ralof on the shoulder, clasping Aine's hand warmly and making her feel welcome and at ease for the first time in weeks.

"Come, let's talk in the house."

Gerdur fixed her husband with a look.

"You aren't fooling anyone, Hod; you just want to polish off that mead."

Hod gave Gerdur that same smile and Aine watched Gerdur's lips twitch as she suppressed a smile. There was something sweet and enviable in this moment of open affection and she pushed that unexpected jealousy aside. They headed into the house and the interior was just as fine as the exterior.

Sturdy, well-made furniture dominated, bright blue and pale red plates lined the shelves of the kitchen cabinet; and thick blankets draped the backs of the chairs. Aine immediately moved to the fire blazing on the hearth.

In spite of her words, Gerdur bustled about, pressing a mug of mead into Aine's hand and serving the men as well. Ralof and Hod had seated themselves at the heavy wooden table in front of the fire and Gerdur finally poured herself a glass and joined them, her dark eyes on Ralof.

"All right, brother, what's going on? What happened?"

Ralof glanced at Aine, but she had no intention of speaking right now. He stretched his legs under the table, took a pull of the mead, and began talking.

"The troop was caught a few days ago after a failed raid on one of the Imperial camps. Those of us that made it out alive were taken to Helgen for execution, including me and Ulfric," He paused when Gerdur made a disgusted sound and he winked at her, "Easy, Gertie, you know better. We've always had a plan in place just for this situation. It's just that - this time - we were preempted."

He stopped for another drink this time and Hod sat forward with a frown.

"What do you mean 'preempted'?"

After another fruitless glance at Aine, Ralof continued.

"The execution was interrupted when it came to Aine here. By a dragon."

Both Hod and Gerdur stared at Ralof for a moment in absolute silence. Hod slowly began smiling as if waiting for his brother-in-law to admit the joke, but his wife knew better. Her eyes never left Ralof.

"You're serious," She spoke quietly and Hod's face grew grim, "An actual dragon."

"Very. Ulfric didn't seem too surprised, but we had to split up and so I have no idea what he might know about this. And yes, an actual dragon."

Hod and Gerdur sat in silence again. Aine sipped at the mead, her thoughts threatening to drift to Meara. She felt tired and worn thin, her head pounded, and all she wanted was to sleep.

"It's incredible," Gerdur spoke softly, her eyes fixed on Ralof, "They aren't supposed to be… I mean, they've been extinct for generations."

"Never would have guessed you'd escape that way, huh, Aine?"

Aine looked at Hod in surprise, her brain scrambling to keep up with this conversation.

"That's putting it mildly," She glanced at Ralof, "What about Whiterun?"

"Whiterun? What's wrong with Whiterun?"

"That's the other half of our news. The dragon looked to be heading in that direction, it's only fair that they're warned."

Gerdur and Hod exchanged glances, their drinks forgotten. Aine had returned to her own, somewhat resentful at Hod for making her talk when she'd rather stay silent.

"It's not safe for you there, Ralof, you can't be seen in Whiterun. Balgruuf may not have come straight out and supported the Legion, but he still won't lift a finger to help if you're arrested there."

"He needs to know, Gertie, and Riverwood will need some protection if that thing decides to come back this way," Ralof lifted his shoulders, "Someone has to do it."

Aine pulled herself reluctantly from her rut and focused again on the conversation. She hadn't really considered the ramifications of Ralof being a Stormcloak in a hostile environment; to be honest, she hadn't really been considering anything. But now, after what he had done for her, she couldn't bring herself to abandon him to this.

"That's why you need someone special," She put in dryly and felt her heart do a little drum-roll at Ralof's sudden grin, "If you can afford to give me a change of clothes, Gerdur, I'll head that way. Though I'm pretty sure they'll already be well aware by the time I reach them. That thing has a substantial head-start and I can't fly."

"How about riding?" Hod's eyes danced a bit.

She lifted her mug in something of a toast at that and Gerdur got to her feet.

"It won't be dangerous for you?" She asked in concern, studying Aine's armor, "Stormcloaks are not looked upon kindly."

Aine had completely forgotten she wore the Stormcloaks' blue and she actually found herself smiling a little.

"I'm not a Stormcloak, this was just a much needed set of armor. So, given that, I'm the ideal candidate to send for aid and a warning."

"Perfect. And I think I have just the thing for you."

"And to answer your question, Hod: it's been a while, but I think I can manage."

Gerdur ushered Aine upstairs and left the job of acquiring a mount to her husband. The bedroom was neat and cozy, furnished in the same way as the rest of the house. Gerdur went to a large, finely carved wardrobe in one corner and began rifling through at the back of it.

"Almost twenty years of marriage and one child later, this hasn't fit for some time," She said briskly, her voice somewhat muffled in the wardrobe, "But it should be fine for you."

She came back with a set of leather armor and a few other articles of clothing. The armor was thick, but well-worn. There was very little tooling, instead thick layers criss-crossed over the chest and belly in a simple, graceful design. It was very Nordic, but Aine couldn't stand anything even vaguely Imperial at the moment - and that extended to bits of herself, if she was being honest. She didn't mind the armor at all.

"Thank you, Gerdur. It may take some time, but I'll pay you back when I have the coin."

Gerdur waved one hand dismissively.

"Nonsense. You are a friend of Ralof's, that's all I need to hear. Besides, you are doing us a great favor: warning Balgruuf and requesting aid for Riverwood. It's the least we can do," She eyed Aine, "Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no thanks," Aine draped the armor over a nearby chest, "I can manage."

"There's clean clothes there, too. I'll make sure Hod's actually getting you a horse and not under the table with Ralof."

The Nord left the room, closing the door behind her, and Aine turned back to the armor. She lifted it a few inches off the chest and then let it fall from her fingers. She stared down at it, feeling the weakness travel up her arm and through the rest of her body. One step brought her to the chair and dresser, and she sank down onto the seat. She leaned her elbows on the dresser and rested her head against her fingertips. There were so few distractions now that she was not running for her life and worried about Ralof's intimacy, and Meara's last moments played over and over vividly.

Tears stung her eyes and she pressed her lids shut, unable to keep a few from trailing down her cheeks. The pain tore at her and she let out a shaking breath, on the cusp of losing her tenuous control. A part of her brain kept trying to remind her that she was in a stranger's home and supposed to be changing her clothes; a simple task that should only take a few moments. She couldn't allow them to get curious and see her break down.

The door slammed open downstairs and then shut again and she heard an excited murmur. She lifted her head from her hands, wiping those traitorous tears away. The movement was caught in a small mirror above the dresser and she found herself studying her reflection.

Her face, always angular, was sharper than ever. She had always felt the angles too hard to be attractive and now even more so. She looked drawn and starved, her normally pale grey eyes dark with exhaustion. Her face was dirty and she saw several cuts and scrapes from the past few days criss-crossing her features. The coil of wavy, dark red hair was singed in spots and lank against her neck; her neck that was still coated with that Nord's blood.

There was a wash basin on one corner of the dresser and she pulled it closer. The simple action of cleaning her face snapped her out of that darkness and though her movements were mechanical, she pulled on Gerdur's armor. It fit well and the leather was supple with age, making the curaiss more comfortable compared to most. She bent to wash her face a second time and dumped the filthy water into the slop bucket in one corner. She used a scrap of fabric from her old shirt to bind her hair back and made sure there was no evidence of tears in her face before she ventured downstairs.

Ralof still sat at the table and he held a boy about seven or eight years old on his knee. The boy resembled Hod so closely, he looked a miniature of his father; save his eyes, those belonged to his mother. He gave Aine a shy smile when he spotted her and Ralof looked her up and down with an appreciation that sent a pleasant little shiver through her.

"That's better," He said and Gerdur's glance at her brother was not lost on Aine, "What do you think, Frod? Will our new friend Aine make a good go of it in Whiterun?"

The boy shrank closer to his uncle, but he grinned.

"She's pretty, everyone will like her."

Aine felt herself smiling genuinely at the boy. That simple, innocent flattery was a balm and she spread her arms.

"Gerdur, your boy is charming. I'm afraid you'll have your hands full."

The Nord laughed, her eyes shining with a mother's intense pride.

"That is not news to me, Aine. Frodnar is just like his uncle. My hair will be grey in less than five years, you wait."

Hod's entrance interrupted them and Gerdur fastened the satchel she'd been packing and crossed to Aine.

"Here, supplies for the road and few other things you might need."

Aine heard the clink of coins and her eyes met Gerdur's.

"Gerdur-"

"No use arguing, just ask Ralof," The Nord had already gone back to her kitchen fire and she clearly wasn't in the mood to listen to arguments, "I told you, you're doing our people an enormous service and this is a way to thank you. I won't listen to protests, Aine, don't waste your time."

Ralof had gotten to his feet and he ruffled his nephew's hair. Aine passed close to him as she headed for the door and he muttered under his breath,

"Something special, remember?"

She glanced up at him and returned his smile, ignoring her reddening cheeks. A more difficult task when her eyes found Gerdur. The Nord was watching them speculatively, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you, Gerdur," Aine spoke abruptly and accomplished what she wanted. Gerdur's concentration was broken and she met Aine's gaze, "You've been far kinder than I ever could have expected."

"You're very welcome. And if you find your way back to Riverwood, you have a place to stay."

Aine nodded and followed Hod outside, feeling Ralof's presence behind her. Frodnar bolted out the door after them, leaping the stairs to the ground below. A large, lanky grey hound followed, playfully nudging his boy with his pointed snout. A shaggy black and white mare watched the two passively and then shook her head, the bridle clinking merrily.

"Her name is Lettie," Hod spoke briskly, taking the reins in one large hand and rubbing the white blaze in Lettie's black face, "She's strong and stubborn, but a better mount you couldn't find."

Aine moved closer and ran one hand along the mare's neck. Hod loosened his grip and Lettie turned her head to sniff at Aine's face and neck. She snorted and lowered her nose to the satchel at Aine's hip. Ralof took it upon himself to dig out a short section of carrot. He seemed to take a sort of pleasure in her reactions to his nearness and he remained at her elbow after he handed the carrot over. Lettie perked up.

"You'll have a friend for life."

Aine smiled faintly and tried to ignore his scent of sage and leather, the lingering smoke from Helgen's fires pleasant in spite of the terrible scenes it evoked. Lettie practically inhaled the carrot and she nudged Aine's hand with her head.

"Now, now, girl, pace yourself," Aine spoke to the horse in Nordic.

"Good girl," Hod looked impressed and Aine arched her brows at him, "Not many Imperials bother to learn our language."

She shrugged and stepped back when Lettie tried to shove her nose into the satchel.

"I had no choice, really," She flipped the reins back and looped them over the horn and fastened the satchel to the saddle as well, "I grew up in Solitude and even there the choice was learn the language or live on the streets forever. It wasn't a difficult decision to make."

Ralof's expression was rather pitying and Hod looked like he knew precisely what she meant.

"We all do what we have to to survive, don't we?"

This reminded Aine too much of what Percival had done and she swung herself into the saddle.

"I suppose we do. Is there anything I should know about Balgruuf?"

Ralof stepped closer again and slipped her foot more fully into the stirrup. She glanced down at him in surprise and he smiled.

"Balgruuf's a Nord who can't make up his mind, an annoying predicament, but not dangerous," His hand still gripped her ankle and she found she didn't mind in the slightest, "At most, he will hem and haw for a few minutes, but he'll welcome this distraction with open arms. His right-hand Irileth is the one to watch out for. She's a Dunmer through and through and no one's fool. Take care with her."

"Noted," She nodded to Hod when he stepped back. He gave her a wave and disappeared behind the house, back to his mill. She met Ralof's gaze again and felt her heart do that odd little drum-roll at his smile, "I - I wanted to… Thank you, Ralof, for helping me. You have no idea… You've been so good."

"Not at all, Aine; it was the right thing to do," He looked down at the slender, boot-clad leg he held and ran his hand up her calf, feeling the muscles tense and hearing her quick intake of breath. The idea of a tumble hadn't been foremost at the time - that had been the truth - but it was a downright lie to claim that it hadn't had its own role here. His eyes found hers, "You won't disappoint, girl, and I won't forget you. If ever you need me…"

His voice trailed away and he squeezed her leg gently. Aine felt her heart hammering and she stilled it as best she could before extending one hand. He clasped it warmly between his own and she was both relieved and disappointed to have the pressure on her calf cease.

"Of course. Look after yourself, Ralof, I think your friend Hadvar would be more than happy to run into you again."

"You have no idea," He answered with a laugh and then continued more seriously, "And when you travel south again, don't just pass on through, huh?"

She smiled and freed herself with some difficulty.

"I promise. Good bye, Ralof."

"Good bye, Aine. Be careful."

She turned Lettie's head north and started out of town. So she missed Gerdur in the doorway; she missed the look she gave Ralof and the exchange that brother and sister shared.

"Uh-oh, I haven't seen that look since Maddy," Gerdur said when Ralof walked slowly up to the porch. He glanced briefly at her and then turned his eyes back to Aine's slim form, "You're in trouble, brother."

"She's something special, Gerdur, and I don't mean just to me," He raised his hand when Aine glanced back and she returned it, "That girl is something special and it's just a matter of time before everyone sees it. And that's all there is to it, so don't go letting your imagination to dream up anything else."

Gerdur clucked her tongue and moved to his elbow. She looked shrewdly up into his face, reading him with all the ease she usually did.

"Oh no, dear Ralof, you're in serious trouble. Very serious trouble."

* * *

 **Note:** In case you all are wondering, Aine's name is pronounced AWn-yuh. I'm probably underestimating your intelligence, but I was reading back through before I posted this and realized it might be nice to clear that up.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hello, hope you all had a great week. And look here, she's on time! As always I hope you enjoy and sadly, Skyrim still does not belong to me. Take care!

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Whiterun was the same as when Aine left. The stables took in Lettie without an issue and the carriage for distant travel stood ready beside the long, low building. Aine walked up the worn road to the large gate, hearing the tumble of the river as it left town and wandered south. Soldiers lounged at the top of the wall, at ease in the afternoon sunshine. The clouds still piled against the mountains, but they had yet to reach Whiterun and the sun, though weak, was very welcome. The guard at the door stood forward when Aine reached him and she arched her brows. Maybe they weren't as calm as they wanted to appear. This man was middle-aged and there was a gleam in his eyes that confirmed what she had told Ralof and his family: Whiterun knew.

"State your business."

Aine debated briefly mentioning the beast and then changed her mind.

"I have a request from Riverwood, from Hod and Gerdur to be precise," She hoped the names were known well enough that surnames wouldn't matter. It was work to stifle that temptation to be smart, but her rarely-listened-to courteous side whispered that manners would be much more effective here and she was just worn-out enough to heed it, "And I was asked to bring it to Jarl Balgruuf's attention. Can he spare a few moments of his time?"

The man hesitated, eyeing her for a moment, and then nodded his head. The large gate remained closed, but he moved back to open the man door for her.

"Speak to the guards at Dragonsreach and they will advise the Jarl."

Aine gave him a polite smile and entered the town. The cobblestone street bridged the small creek that broke from and reentered the river and wound further into Whiterun. The smithy immediately to the right was busy, the proprietor arguing with a big-shouldered Nord about crafting weapons for Ulfric's Stormcloaks. She was coming out ahead. A tavern straight ahead stood with its door open, the cheerful voices echoing out and beckoning patrons to join them. Aine walked by it and continued into the small business area where the stands were busy with townsfolk. The inn, general goods, and apothecary surrounded these little stands on one side and the road ended. Instead, a flight of steps led up to a rather sweet little spot for meditation and rest. Benches scattered the area under a sturdy arbor and a man in one corner preached the end of the world; perhaps not so restful. More steps headed to Dragonsreach at the northernmost point of town. It stood stark against the sky, its roofs impressive and intimidating. The river bounded down beside the stairs, making the stone slick from time to time, but Aine didn't take much heed of it and stopped only when she reached the huge doors and another group of guards.

"Your business?"

Aine repeated her request and the one she spoke with gestured to one of his companions who opened the door.

"This way, lady."

Dragonsreach was just as large inside as it was out. The ceiling soared overhead, supported by large pillars, and the interior was well-lighted and smelled of smoke and good food. A short flight of steps brought them to two long, heavy tables with benches on either side, a massive hearth in the floor surrounded by large stones, and beyond, the Jarl's slightly raised dais and carved chair. She spotted the Dunmer Ralof spoke of, arguing with a tall, slender Imperial, and Balgruuf himself sat rather slumped in the chair. He looked bored, resting his cheek against one fist, and watching the argument without interest. As Aine and her guard drew closer, however, he came to attention and spoke too quietly for her to hear. Though, given that they both abruptly stopped, it was clear he was giving an order to his advisors.

"My lord, this lady has a missive from Riverwood."

Aine stood forward, but didn't touch the stairs of the dais. She felt Irileth's bright orange eyes move over her and the Imperial's curiousity was palpable. She ignored them both and fixed her attention on Balgruuf.

"Jarl Balgruuf, I'm sure you have already heard the rumors, but Helgen was destroyed today, by a dragon."

The advisors both glanced at their Jarl who sat forward, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair. His dark eyes fixed on her and everything else in the room seemed to disappear to him.

"So it's true," His voice was deep, but underneath the calm was an edge that was entirely understandable, "They have returned."

Aine nodded her head, wanting to get this over with and get out of Skyrim. She just could not bring herself to care what happened with the creatures, or the people. It was harsh and cruel, but really, what could anyone expect after what had been done to her?

"Yes, I've seen it. Gerdur and Hod of Riverwood asked that I travel here and warn you as well as request extra forces for the village. They have some very understandable concerns about the dragon attacking and want to take precautions."

"If I hadn't had other reports…" Balgruuf's voice trailed away and he studied Aine for a moment, "Of course, Riverwood must have more protection. Irileth, see that men are sent south and bolster our own forces here. What is your name?"

This was rattled off rather quickly and Aine blinked at him before she answered.

"Aine, my name is Aine."

"Lady Aine, you have my thanks. Riverwood plays a very important role in our lumber trade and we can't afford to lose her."

She couldn't keep her brow from arching, wondering why the hell he thought she'd care about that. She bit back another smart retort and felt her exhaustion threatening to take over completely.

"Gerdur and Hod were very kind to me. It was the least I could do for them," She took a half-step back and gave the Jarl a small bow, "Good luck, Jarl. May your gods guide you."

"Wait a moment, please, Lady Aine," He stood and crossed the dais, coming down the steps. He was lean with a medium build and light brown hair. His face was kind, but there was something quick and hard in his dark eyes that could make him rather intimidating if he wanted, "I would like you to speak with my court wizard. He knows of dragons, he's studied their history for years and will wish to know any of the particulars you can share."

Aine hesitated, balking internally at this postponement of her escape. She glanced about at their surroundings and then caught the rather desperate look in Balgruuf's gaze. She let out a quiet sigh, not caring how rude that sounded, and then inclined her head.

"Sure, I suppose I can spare a little time for him. Where is he?"

"This way, lady."

The Jarl led her through a doorway that stood open to her right. It was a long narrow room, rather dim after the bright light of the foyer and receiving areas. An alchemy table stood in one corner, screens broke up the room into sections, and ahead an L-shaped desk covered with maps and manuscripts separated them from the enchanter in dark robes.

"Farengar, Lady Aine here has information for you," Balgruuf greeted.

The enchanter's eyes gleamed under his hood and he studied Aine closely. He stepped closer and she saw his expression brighten when he looked at his Jarl.

"About the dragon? Perfect! Here, lady, come and tell me what you saw."

He motioned to a stool at her end of the desk and she shook her head. She had been sitting long enough on Lettie and it felt nice to stretch her legs. He watched her expectantly and Balgruuf leaned against one of the supporting pillars with his arms folded over his chest. She didn't like this sudden spotlight, but she shrugged off the attention and explained how the dragon had attacked Helgen, conveniently leaving out her arrest and almost-execution.

"What was its color?"

Aine blinked and frowned. She spread her hands.

"The color?"

"Yes, the color of its scales. There have been studies done that rate the color with the difficulty or ease of killing the dragons. I am curious to know its color."

"Um, that wasn't the foremost thing in my mind, but I believe it was dark. Maybe blue or dark grey."

Farengar was fascinated and he nodded his head, making a note on a piece of nearby parchment.

"More difficult," He murmured quietly and continued talking softly to himself.

Aine glanced at Balgruuf, but the Jarl had not transfered his attention from the enchanter.

"What are you thinking, Farengar?"

"I need the Stone, the Dragonstone. It's a map of burials. If I had it, I could pinpoint where the next dragon might rise."

"But the burials are spread throughout the country. How could you know that that is where the next might come?"

"It would be a task of manning each site, or as many as we can," There was no missing the arch in Balgruuf's brows and Farengar waved his hand rather dismissively, "Yes, yes, it will be dangerous, but think of what we could learn, Jarl. This is a chance of a lifetime."

Balgruuf let out a sigh and pushed from the pillar. He stepped closer to the desk and Aine didn't like the look he sent her.

"Are you ready for this, lady?"

She turned her attention to him fully and felt her temper begin to smoulder.

"Ready? What do you mean 'ready'?"

"To locate Farengar's map. We have no one to spare for this sort of quest and here you are. You have done us a favor, yes, but I'm afraid I must ask one more."

Balgruuf spoke as though her agreement was a for-sure thing and he had only to mention it before she agreed and asked him how high to jump. Her temper flared and her politeness suffered a quick, painful, death.

"What the hell are you talking about? You actually expect me to delve into some mini-hell for a map of dragon burials? No, Jarl, I came here because I owed good people a favor and was happy to repay it, but this? No, not a chance; pick up a mercenary, tell him what you need, and leave me out of it," She nodded to Farengar who watched her with almost-amused incredulity and then gave Balgruuf the shallowest bow she could get away with, "Once again, Jarl, the best of luck."

She turned to leave Dragonsreach and Balgruuf spoke up.

"How much?"

Aine didn't reward him with a full turn. She glanced over her shoulder instead and arched her brows.

"What do you mean?"

"You are eager to leave Whiterun, perhaps even Skyrim," His eyes glittered and Aine felt her spine stiffen, "I am no fool, Lady Aine. How much would it cost me to buy your service here?"

She swore roundly in her head, using words she normally never did. Of course Jarl Balgruuf was no fool. Aine and her companions had been here quite recently and Percival couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. She wondered how long he had known who, or rather what, she was. Clenching her jaw, she turned slowly and saw that the Jarl was not joking about money. He leveled his gaze on her and Farengar was forgotten for the moment.

"You're actually serious."

"We need help and I believe you do as well. How much?"

Aine teetered. She wanted _out_ of Skyrim; she was done with this country. The stupid war had destroyed the comfortable little kingdom she'd built for herself in one fell swoop and though she didn't blame the Nordic people as a whole, she was finished with them. Only a few had ever done anything for her, but at the same time, she knew that Gerdur - generous as she was - had not provided her with funds to get very far into Cyrodiil. Not that Aine was expecting this, of course, and she suddenly felt trapped. More curses swirled through her head and she turned to face the room once more.

"I want to get to Cyrodiil, the City to be precise. Fare there and at least two or three weeks' wages to live on while I search for work."

Farengar's mouth dropped open at this demand and his eyes went to Balgruuf quickly before flashing back to Aine.

"That's presumptuous, to say the very least," He cut in, "You can't expect the Jarl-"

"Two weeks," Balgruuf interrupted his enchanter and Aine had made the decision to ignore him some time ago, "Two weeks' wages and we have a deal. _If_ you are successful in finding the map."

Aine considered this for a moment, testing each outcome for anything that might go wrong, and she slowly nodded her head. She extended one hand.

"All right, we have a deal."

Balgruuf shook her hand firmly and then glanced at his enchanter once more.

"Give her whatever information she needs, Farengar. Lady Aine, until we meet again."

She watched him leave the room and then turned to Farengar who still couldn't quite believe what just happened. Allowing a small smile, she stepped close to the desk and pressed her palms against the smooth patina. The maps were stacked in front of her and she spoke first.

"Point me in the right direction, sir."

Farengar shook himself visibly and moved to the desk.

"It's Bleak Falls Barrow. If you came from Helgen and Riverwood, you probably noticed it on the peaks to the west. The barrows are fairly straightforward, nothing like some of the labyrinthine tombs one finds in Morrowind. From what I've read, the Dragonstone will be in the final chamber, but…"

"But?"

"The dead do not rest easy in the barrows, lady. I can't say exactly, but you will find some opposition in your task."

"Lovely," Aine said dryly, not rattled. Her superstitions remained untouched and, to be quite honest, the idea of seeing Ralof again disconcerted her more, "What will this Dragonstone look like? And is there anything else I should know?"

"It is a stone, like it sounds, carved with the relief of a map. It's not a clever name, in other words, and I would be mindful of bandits in the area. They seem drawn to abandoned sites."

"Not unusual," Aine looked down at the maps and saw that the trail for Bleak Falls Barrow was just outside of Riverwood; she had a decision to make, "Well, sir, I hope to see you soon."

"As do I," Farengar seemed amused at Aine's dry acceptance of this and his incredulity was fading fast. He gave her a rather charming smile, "As do I."

* * *

 _Damn bandits!_ Aine thought fiercely, hunkered in the shadows of the entry to Bleak Falls. She had managed to sneak into the place with little trouble; her skills were still sharp. And why shouldn't they be? It had only been a couple of weeks since she had last snuck into a building, though with all that passed, it seemed like a lifetime ago. She had decided against asking Ralof for help. There was no need to involve him in her deal with Balgruuf. As much as her heart may have wanted her to.

Lettie was safely ensconced in a clutch of trees a ways from the barrow and she had to wonder, not for the first or probably last time, why the hell she allowed the Jarl to bribe her into this. And yes, it was a bribe, no mistake. She had done it, however; they had even shaken hands on the deal, and she didn't like backing out of an agreement; it just wasn't good business.

She forced herself to focus. The gleam of the fire ahead, behind a large pillar, highlighted the shapes of two more bandits and she slowly eased forward, not sure how she was going to handle this. If she had been in Solitude, with all of her supplies, she could have utilized a powder similar to Meara's darts and just knocked the two out cold, but she wasn't and she couldn't. Instead, she had her knives and she had to make use of them. Her stomach clenched in displeasure and she tiptoed forward, hiding herself behind that pillar. The knife hilts felt cold and rather terrible under her fingers and she half-thought about just approaching these two and finding out what would happen.

Her fingers dropped from the hilts, a small cascade of stones fell down the pillar, and both bandits turned in surprise. One spotted her and gave a shout of warning, his hands igniting with flames. The decision was made for Aine and she reacted. The sorcerer was downed by one of her knives and the other's arrow sped so close to her head, she swore she could feel the feathers brush her cheek. A moment later and the archer was no longer a concern either.

Aine moved forward, somewhat surprised that this was so simple and easy. She would have guessed that men and women whose very existence depended on besting others would have put up more of a fight. Not that she wanted to have had a difficult time of it; it was just surprising. There were a few bedrolls and the fire crackled merrily in the pit. An open doorway led further into the barrow and Aine collected the bow and quiver along with her knives. She wasn't great with a bow, but in this case the weapon seemed to make perfect sense and she went along with it.

The path was dirt and stone, spider webs thick in every available nook and cranny. Aine wasn't quite ready to throw caution into the wind and she eased further into the earth. There were a few carvings that spoke of the Nordic influence here, but they seemed few and far between, and when she reached the next large room, the sight of another bandit took her aback.

The man was dirty and looked wan. He was busy against the wall adjacent to where she stood in the tunnel and he didn't even realize he had an audience. The stone he worked on screeched as it turned to reveal the shape of something rather like a whale. He stepped back and looked at all three together. Aine saw the first was a snake, then the whale, and the last was also a whale shape. The man gave an abrupt nod and turned to walk across the room. Aine pulled back, but he was too distracted to take note. She watched as he moved to a lever standing proud in a large stone slab and he pulled it. There was a moment of silence and then an ominous _swish_ sound. The man grunted and Aine heard something clinking off the floor. It wasn't until he collapsed and one of the little items bounced her way that she realized what had happened. His guess was wrong and the little darts had to house some very potent poison to have such an immediate result.

The idea didn't sit well with her, especially considering that now, it was her turn. She eased into the room and looked at the stones the bandit had worked on. They were set into the wall with just enough room to turn them. She glanced at the bandit's body, pierced at least three times with those darts, and then studied the gate blocking the way ahead. Above the gate were more carvings. They resembled faces, the open mouths holding the same reliefs of snakes and whales. There were only two and it looked as if the middle relief had collapsed.

Aine moved forward and found it on the floor, cracked but clear. Her previous pity for the bandit morphed into disdain and she shook her head as she went to the stones. The man was stupid enough to miss something quite obvious and she had a hard time being empathetic with idiocy.

The stone was difficult to turn, but she got it around to the snake and stepped over the man's body. Even with the certainty she had this right, she still had a difficult time mustering the courage to pull the lever. She glanced down at the bandit and then forced herself to move. The lever pulled easily and the gate rattled upward. She let out a quick breath of sheer relief and pressed on.

The path continued down and she heard scuffling and drips from the depths. She didn't mind the noises, it made her feel a little less lonely. A winding ramp led even further into the earth and she started down, debating briefly on taking one of the torches from the sconce on the wall. It was clear the bandits had at least made themselves at home this far in and the torches were plentiful. She stopped at the second turn down and went on when there was a soft glow emitting from the bottom.

Torches were further in and the webs had grown _very_ thick. She slowed, feeling her nerves tighten. That could only mean one thing: frostbite spiders. A shiver rolled through her and she had to force herself to move. She hated the damn things; they terrified her. Too many legs, snapping pincers, and not to mention _entirely_ too big. The wall to her left had been constructed as a half-wall, but years of drips in the cavern had formed stalactites that barred the open areas. Aine peered through one of the openings and her shivers grew much worse. There was an enormous spider in the next cavern, hunched in one corner. She heard the soft clicks that made her skin crawl and she remained frozen for a moment.

Her mind flew, trying to figure out how the hell to do this, and then she heard a soft murmur. The spider moved, sluggishly. Aine put her fear aside and realized the thing was already wounded. When it turned, she saw that its head was glistening with black blood and she had a clean shot. Through trial and error over the years, she knew that the things' weak spot were their eyes and the ones along the side of the head in particular. She pulled her knife silently from the scabbard and flicked it into the room. The knife sank into the eye and the spider went rigid before collapsing onto the floor; tremors rolled through each of its legs, and then it went still. She waited, previous experience telling her there usually was more than one spider, but things stayed still.

"Hello?" A hoarse voice called, "Is someone there?"

She started at that and wandered further along the wall until she found a doorway. The room was coated with webs, cocoons hoarded in the corners, and bones and other remains all around. Straight ahead was about the strangest thing Aine had ever seen. There was another doorway and caught within, wrapped almost completely in webs, was a man's form. Only his head was free and in the faint light, he looked more relieved than anyone Aine had ever seen.

"What the hell?" She quizzed softly, heading his way. She gingerly stepped close to retrieve her knife and then moved closer to the man, cleaning the blade as she went, "Who are you?"

"My name is Arvel," He answered her in an exhausted voice and she was close enough now to see that it was a Dunmer caught in the webs. His helm was cocked at an odd angle and she could see the slight movement of his arms under the layers of white, "I came down here to - to study these ruins and ran into trouble. But I'm so close. I even have the Claw and I know how to use it. Cut me down and I'll share my knowledge with you."

Aine didn't believe him for a moment about 'studying' anything here. She arched her brows and let him stew, but there was no way she'd let the Dunmer slowly starve with nothing but a dead frostbite spider for company.

"All right: I help you, you help me."

"Yes, yes, the Hall of Stories is not far and after that will be the last chamber," His voice was excited and he practically danced in his trap when she moved close to cut him loose. He was way too animated for a Dark Elf, but she figured each to his own, "I know how the Claw works and I can show you."

She nodded her head, only half-listening. The webs were loose enough now that Arvel's feet were on the floor and he had one arm free. Aine moved to work on the other side when the Dunmer suddenly acted. He lurched forward, shoving her hard. She let out a breath and tripped backward, loosing her knife in the process. Her feet hit one of the raised stones and she fell to the ground, letting out a curse when pain snapped through her hip and back.

"You fool! Share the riches with you? Never!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** And here she is again! Thanks to all - again - for reading this and I hope everything is going well with everyone. All the best, catalinaD

* * *

Arvel's mocking laugh echoed to her as he bolted down the tunnel behind him. Aine scrambled to her feet, wincing as the pain increased. She scooped up her knife and chased after him. The light grew a little stronger and she heard his footsteps change when he crossed into a room just beyond her. The following noise made her slow. There was an odd grating sound and a low hoarse moan. She stopped before she went into the room and heard Arvel's sudden curse. His sword was rather loud coming out of its scabbard and Aine poked her head around to see the Dunmer fighting a walking corpse. She watched in absolute wonder as the Dunmer cut down the thing and then got overpowered by another that he didn't see behind him. The corpse ran a wicked long blade through Arvel's chest and the Dunmer dropped. Aine flung her knife when the corpse turned on her and it collapsed on top of Arvel's body. She had to take another moment before wandering closer. She had heard of draugr, but hadn't ever really believed they existed and to be proved wrong so soundly needed a moment of consideration.

The things were tall and thin, the skin stretched tight over the bones. There were no eyes in the sockets and they wore armor that they must have died in. Aine pulled her knife loose with a crack and snap of bone and heeded a little voice in her head that told her to search Arvel. Her fingers trembled a bit as they wandered through the Dunmer's pockets and she tried to ignore it, telling herself to just consider it another pickpocketing. She uncovered a small leather-bound journal, a handful of lock picks, two rings that clearly didn't belong to the Dunmer, and the Claw.

It was a little bit smaller than her hand, shaped exactly like a bird's foot. The weight was surprising for something of its size, its gold color gleaming in the faint light. Carving on each toe made her think of the Dwemer artifacts she had seen in display cases in both shops and homes, and the handle of it felt cold against her fingers. On the underside, it looked like there were more carvings of animals in a vertical row, but it was too dark to see for sure. She pocketed it and turned her attention to the journal, forgetting she was crouched over three dead bodies when her suspicions were confirmed. Arvel was a thief and he had taken the Claw from the trader in Riverwood when he learned the man had it. He had been told stories of the treasure buried in Bleak Falls Barrow and stole the Claw after Lucan let slip that he had it one drunken night. The last note merely said that the Claw was the key and he knew how to use it; pretty much what he had claimed to Aine.

She got back to her feet, tucking the journal into the pack at her hip with the Claw. Her back and hip were stiff and she paced in a little circle to loosen the muscles. The tunnel was more of a hallway here and she heard an odd swishing noise as she pressed through. The oil lamps burning here did not make sense, but she appreciated the light; especially considering what lay ahead. There was a dim narrow tunnel and she watched as three blades swung back and forth, creating the swishing sound. She shook her head in disbelief, looking about in vain for any kind of pull chain or switch. There was nothing and she moved closer to the tunnel. She hated these kinds of traps; she knew she could probably manage this one, but… hell, she hated them.

There was a slight pause in each swing and she inhaled and held the breath before darting forward. Between the blades was just enough room for her to stand and she felt the air brush strands of her hair when the things made another swing. She repeated her actions, pressing one hand to the wall to her left when she almost tripped into the last blade. She allowed it to swing a few more times as she got over the terror of that moment and then she dodged it and found herself on the other side. Her heart was hammering and she didn't have a chance to still it before two more draugr came alive and started for her. She took out one with her handy knife and backed away from the other when it swung at her. Her hands knocked into a pike against the wall and she grabbed it, swinging it around in front of her. The head of it slammed into the draugr's chest and knocked it sideways, right into the swing of those blades.

The sound of water echoed to her and she found herself climbing up into a natural cavern. There was a little creek here and a few openings in the earth overhead allowed faint light to stream through. Vegetation grew in these pockets, tumbling over each other in little oases. It was beautiful and serene, but Aine didn't wait around long. There was a rusted gate over the water that traveled further into the earth and she spotted the pull chain as she moved closer. The gate reluctantly moved upward and she scrambled through, trying to avoid getting her feet too wet. The water was freezing and she hated getting her boots soaked. It took too long to dry them out.

The creek continued in the tunnel, but the opening a few yards in revealed another man-made hall. Aine eased herself through, waiting to hear more draugr, but the way was clear. She stood in a domed hall, the ceiling low and intricately carved. There were words as well, something like Nordic, but old enough she couldn't read it. There was a cave-in behind her which explained the spelunking through the creek and ahead the way was barred by a large door shaped exactly like the hall. She moved closer and saw that three rings were set into the door itself. They were only half-moons because of a detail of the door that came up halfway, decorated with more carvings, and three small round holes centered perfectly in the middle.

Aine spotted the animals on each ring when she was close enough and a switch flipped in her head. She dug out the Claw and flipped it over again. From the toe-points down to the heel, the animals were arranged bear, moth, owl, and Aine put it away and pressed her hands against the rings. They turned more easily then she thought they would and once they were aligned, she pressed the Claw into the holes. The toes fit perfectly and the ring sank in under Aine's pressure. She turned the Claw as though turning a key and the door began rumbling downward. She pulled the Claw free and the door disappeared into a pocket in the earth.

The water was much louder here and she studied the massive cavern in amazement. It was like the small alcove behind her multiplied by fifty. The ceiling was gone in the shadows overhead, massive stalactites and stalagmites surrounded her, and light from outside beamed down and created those same little oases. She ventured further and the sight ahead, around the stalactites, made her stop again.

There was a huge slab of stone behind a clutch of boulders on the other side of the creek that bubbled through the cavern. She saw a natural bridge of stone spanning the creek and she wandered over it, hardly watching her footing because she was so taken by the runes on that stone wall. They were written with a precision that should not be possible, running the width of the stone that was easily ten feet wide. Aine noted the sarcophagus at the top of the boulder clutch, but something happened then that made it unimportant.

She stepped closer to the wall to get a better look and the light began growing dim. It started at the corners of her eyes, almost like a fog crept in. She stopped mid-stride, trying to look about for the source, but a few of the runes in the wall were beginning to shine. Fear rooted Aine to the spot as the darkness continued and the words grew brighter and brighter. They had just reached the point of being too bright to look at and she felt a cool rush of air over her. Her body tingled at her fingertips and toes, the sensation slowly rolling through her body and she let out a gasp, feeling something powerful suddenly take hold of her. The darkness deepened and then, in a blink, it was gone.

Aine's strength disappeared and she fell to the stone beneath her, shaking with the affects of whatever the hell that was. Her breathing was rather erratic and she stayed like that until she heard the grinding of stone on stone behind her. She snapped upright, the power still coursing through her, and she watched in horror as a long, skeletal hand gripped the edge of the sarcophagus. Another draugr sat up, his helm wicked in the light and the long blade razor-sharp even with the age. She staggered to her feet, worried she'd simply fall back down again. But she didn't and the draugr charged at her.

She was faster, dodging away and the monster almost collided with the wall. It spun back to her and she jarred it with one of the knives. The draugr dove forward a second time and she cursed when the sword caught one of her pauldrons and she felt pain snap through her shoulder. There was a shelf near the sarcophagus and Aine spotted an axe laying on the top. She darted for it and turned to hack at the draugr's arms when the long blade narrowly missed her. The bones broke under her swing and the draugr roared with anger. It brought the sword back and Aine kicked the thing in the legs. The force staggered the draugr and made the grip on its sword rather precarious. She kicked a second time and sent the axe into the thing's neck. More bones cracked and the draugr's head canted sideways. Its sword hit the ground and Aine finished hacking the head from the body. The draugr dropped and she sagged against the sarcophagus, her body trembling.

Her fear was still the foremost thing in her brain and she watched the axe blade shake with the tremors in her arms. She forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep herself under control. The power of the words was there, almost like a tangible thing in the back of her mind, and the mystery of it threatened to drive her crazy. The only solution she could think of was to get back to Farengar and ask him what the hell this meant. And the thought of the court wizard made her remember why she was here.

The sarcophagus gaped like an open mouth and she absentmindedly slipped the little axe into a loop on her belt, feeling rather partial to it. She didn't trust her legs just yet and gripped the edge of the tomb while she studied the inside. She had to push the lid completely free and there, at the bottom of the sarcophagus, was a small stone slab. Her fingers fumbled over the surface of it for a moment until she found her grip and pulled it free. It was a pentagon-shape, maybe a foot wide at its widest point, and the map relief was incredibly intricate. Aine's fingers ran over script on the back and she turned it over carefully to see more of the runes. It was just two lines and she couldn't make out a word of it.

Her strength was slowly returning and she pushed from the tomb. The thought of creeping back through the barrow didn't exactly thrill her and as she turned to leave, her eyes caught another passage that led up at the other side of the word wall. She headed that way, stopping to loot through a small chest hidden at the base of this path. There was a coin bag that clinked merrily when she lifted it and a garnet that winked up at her. She pocketed both and continued upward. The path ended in a rock wall and Aine searched for the catch. To the right of the door, partially covered by a growth of mushrooms, was a lever. She pulled it and stood back when the stone dropped into the ground as the large door had done. Firelight greeted her and she found herself just down the tunnel from the cavern where the bandits had set up camp.

Remembering the bandits outside the barrow, she went forward cautiously, but the way was clear. She took up the dark cloak she had stashed near the door after first entering and tossed it back over her shoulders, tugging the hood over her head. The snow had worsened while she trekked through the barrow and night was falling rather swiftly. The poor light worked in her favor and she snuck away from Bleak Falls and its remaining bandits without trouble.

Lettie was thrilled to see her and she treated the mare with another carrot as she secured the Dragonstone in the satchel and swung herself into the saddle. The only trouble the horse gave her was at the split of the road. Lettie turned her head toward Riverwood and Aine almost allowed it, but that odd power still thrummed in her and she didn't want to postpone quizzing Farengar about it. Stopping in at Gerdur and Hod's would be a long postponement and she wanted this over with. She got Lettie in the right direction and hurried her to Whiterun. They made very good time and Dragonsreach still ate supper at those massive tables when she stepped through the doors. Farengar was seated at one end and his face lit with shock and pleasure at the sight of her.

"You made it!" He exclaimed, "And you have it with you?"

She glanced around at the others, ignored them, and nodded to the enchanter. He got to his feet, took her elbow, and pulled her into his rooms. She extricated herself and put her satchel on his desk before tugging the Dragonstone free. Farengar leaned over it with an eager expression. He held a magnifying glass in one hand and he scoured the map.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant," He murmured in quiet excitement, "The detail is exquisite. Each Reach is represented and they are all clearly marked. Brilliant!"

"Farengar, I have a question for you," Aine wasn't sure how to phrase this and it was worse when the enchanter looked up at her, "In the barrow, I came across something rather odd. I mean, the whole thing was odd, but this-"

"Farengar!" Irileth came flying into the room, her Dunmer calm clearly rattled, "Come quickly. We have reports of a dragon at the western watch tower. You as well, lady, please."

The Dunmer was not giving Aine a choice and her temper heated. Farengar had her elbow again and he ushered her after Irileth. They hurried upstairs where Balgruuf and a few of his captains were clustered around a war table. He looked up when they entered and he straightened.

"We have archers and enchanters ready, Jarl," One of the men said, "That thing has to be brought down to get rid of it."

"I have men standing by, sir," Irileth added, her cool back in place, "Say the word."

"Fight it at the watch tower; I don't want it getting close to the city. Lady Aine, you have seen these in action. Do you have anything to add?"

"Run like hell?" She ignored Irileth's scathing look and the few grins that were quickly smothered in the faces of the captains, "It's a dragon we are talking about, Jarl, and Helgen was nothing more than a contest to see who could escape the fastest. Get the thing grounded and you have a chance, sure, but it's still a dragon."

"Three weeks?"

Aine frowned very briefly and then realized what he was asking her. She actually felt her lips twitch and she cocked her head.

"Four."

Balgruuf didn't take long to consider that; he couldn't, not with a dragon threatening his people.

"Four."

"Brilliant, let's go and run around in circles," This elicited laughter and she turned to Irileth with an arched brow, "I'll follow your lead, lady. Let's get this over with."

Balgruuf must have seen the curiousity in Farengar's face.

"Farengar, you know the dragons' history. Do you have any advice?"

"The underside of the wings, at the shoulder joint, is where the skin may be soft. If you have skilled enough archers, aim for the eyes. And don't forget that their tails are just as dangerous as their teeth and claws. I would be shocked if it doesn't use the tail as a whip of sorts."

Aine had slipped into the background and waited until Irileth finally turned about and brought an end to this discussion. Two of the captains followed and Balgruuf had to stop Farengar from trailing them. They cut through Dragonsreach and hurried down the steps, through town, and out into the deepening night. The western watch tower was a little ways from town, but Aine could see the large dark shape swooping low over it. As they drew closer, more men and women joined them and Aine could hear the bow strings being drawn tight. The enchanters made the air rather thick with energy and they waited for Irileth's word. The Dunmer set her lines in front of the ranged fighters and then brought one hand down sharply. A volley of arrows soared through the sky and made the dragon roar. The sound vibrated through Aine's body and she could smell and see Helgen; the flames eating the wooden beams, heat scorching her, Ralof's strong grip as he shielded her from…

The thought was gone in the sudden gush of flames and the lines broke to avoid a fiery death. Aine bolted forward, yanking her borrowed bow free. The dragon looped back around, smashing the top of the tower and sending the large stones thudding to the ground. She could hear Irileth shouting for the archers and she ran forward, using the stone walk up to the remains of the tower. She dropped to one knee and knocked an arrow. The dragon flew over her head and she let the arrow fly. It was a little clumsy, but the thing roared again, telling her it wasn't such a bad shot. More arrows went up, looking like a curtain across the sky, and the enchanters blasted the thing with spells of lightning, ice, and even gouts of flames. The battle raged for a while, more of the men and women dropping when the dragon targeted clusters of the soldiers. Irileth shouted again for them to quit grouping and Aine fired, kind of relishing this new-found skill.

This whole thing seemed hopeless until the dragon dropped rather suddenly to the ground. It sent flames all around it and stomped its feet. The soldiers threw themselves forward, blades flashing in the firelight. With the dragon grounded, it seemed more doable. Aine continued with her archery and the remaining enchanters continued with their magic. Finally, after another spell of lightning, the creature let out a final roar and fell forward, going still. There was a moment of absolute silence and then the men and women began cheering.

Aine, rather exhilarated by the fight, slung the bow over her shoulder and dropped off the stone walk she stood on. She started for Irileth and the two captains when the dragon began to glow bright orange. The sounds that accompanied this closely resembled flames and the dragon's body started disintegrating into the air. The currents of it swept gracefully into the sky, twisting together elaborately and then curling toward Aine. She froze, watching in wide-eyed wonder as the currents reached her, flowing over her head and arms and shoulders in a gentle caress. The dragon continued to fade and she felt that same curious strength start to thrum through her. There was no darkness this time, no trembling or tingling, and the overwhelming power from the word wall was subdued, but somehow stronger. The currents faded a moment later and she was left standing in the field beside the watch tower, blinking in utter shock and feeling the gaze of every remaining soldier on her.

"Th-that was…" The soldier closest to her stammered and took a step back when she glanced at him, "You - absorbed it. How - what happened?"

"Dragonborn," The word was spoken very quietly and Aine turned her attention to one of the enchanters who had fought near her. The Wood Elf was small and petite, her pale green eyes unreadable, "It's true."

"Dragonborn? What the hell does that mean?"

The Bosmer didn't have a chance to respond. A shout sounded, but not from any of those gathered. This came from the mountains themselves and the men and women looked about in wonder. Irileth had reached Aine's arm and her bright orange eyes were steady.

"The Greybeards," She offered and Aine turned a confused look on her, "They are summoning you. Answer the call and they will advise you."

Aine shook her head, trying to keep up with this conversation. None of this meant anything to her and her temper was starting to heat again at these cryptic half-answers from them.

"I don't understand, Irileth. What's going on? What happened with the dragon? Why did I - absorb that?"

"Go to the Greybeards, Aine, answer their call," Irileth had gotten her moving without Aine really realizing it and they were heading back to Whiterun, the other soldiers trailing them rather distantly, "Get to Ivarstead, that is where the trail begins. The Greybeards will help you."

Aine finally set her heels and stopped their trek. She turned to look at the Dunmer.

"I need more than that, Irileth. I don't know what the hell's going on and it's going to take more than a repetition of 'see the Greybeards' to placate me. What else do you know about this?"

"Let's speak with Balgruuf then. Please, I don't want to discuss this out here."

Aine reluctantly caved to that request and they were once more back at Dragonsreach. It seemed like everyone knew what the shout meant, save Aine. Jarl Balgruuf was not sitting in his handsome chair. He paced restlessly in front of it, his hands clasped behind his back as both Proventus Avenicci, the Imperial advisor, and another Nord argued about what to do now. The Nord resembled Balgruuf so closely, Aine guessed they were brothers and had that confirmed a moment later.

"You're the Jarl's brother and Thane, Hrongar, you need to act like you have standing here."

"Does your reasoning apply to you as well, Avenicci? If that is the case, you should know you are acting the part of ass remarkably well for a Jarl's advisor."

Aine couldn't bite back her chuckle and the men all looked at her. She was exhausted and her anger had died down to a gentle smoulder. It would take a bit for it to flare and she knew she was about to collapse, but there was too much to figure out right now. She held up one hand and sank down onto one end of the long bench. Farengar was close by and Irileth, though grave and somber, did not give her any askance looks at her irrelevance.

"Don't mind me," Aine offered and lifted her shoulders, wondering briefly why the one was hurting her, "I sometimes enjoy a good pissing contest and this one promises to be amusing. Do you want to finish now and let me relish it, or should we get this pesky Dragonborn and Greybeard business out of the way first? Given that I have no idea what the hell either of those two terms mean, my vote is kind of tilted to the pissing contest. But then again, said terms seem to impact me so I have to say it's a tie. Jarl, what about you?"

"Given that this argument concerns you, Dragonborn, perhaps you-"

"Ah, no, no, sir. Like I said, that term doesn't mean anything yet, so don't bother. My name is Aine."

It was Hrongar's turn to chuckle and Jarl Balgruuf stopped his pacing. Avenicci had pulled himself to a rather impressive height and opened his mouth to respond, but his Jarl was faster.

"Enough, all of you. Lady - no, not anymore. Aine, the Dragonborn is a prophecy in the Nordic heritage. It speaks of the dragons returning at a time of turmoil in Skyrim and one emerging that will become the dragons' bane. It is an old prophecy, half-forgotten by most of the Nords, but now… well, it appears there was some truth to it after all. Skyrim is chaotic with this war between the Legion and Stormcloaks, Helgen has been destroyed, and now we have witnessed not only a real dragon, but have seen said dragon's soul transfer to a mortal woman. I believe the signs could be considered quite obvious, right?"

Aine's amusement faded and she studied the Jarl who was entirely serious. She glanced quickly at Farengar who gave a small nod and then focused on Balgruuf.

"Am I to understand then that the Nords are willing to accept an Imperial dog as the figure of one of their prophecies?"

Balgruuf mimicked her shrug.

"Prophecies never adhere to our perceptions of them. Morrowind's Nerevar was a Nord and Cyrodiil's Champion a Dunmer; others have been remarkable and though some - or perhaps most - might not like the idea, this is what it is."

She pressed her lips together and considered that. Her initial disbelief was still strong and it had now started to take a rather comic turn, as though a part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop and this farce admitted for what it was. She glanced around at them all again. Farengar could help a little, Balgruuf was going off what he had been taught as a young man, Hrongar would support his brother; Avenicci looked ready to argue with everyone, and Irileth would probably look for an answer that somehow included blades and every other shiny, pointed object. Pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, she gave in to the inevitable.

"I think what you're really telling me is that I don't have any choice but to go and ask these Greybeards if this is true."

Farengar actually laughed a little at that and Hrongar's face broke into a grin. Balgruuf himself merely tipped his head at her while Avenicci looked ready to interrupt.

"I'm afraid so, Aine. The path up to High Hrothgar is well marked out of Ivarstead; it's a pilgrimage to the Nords. The villagers are always eager to help those who attempt it and they can outfit you with whatever you might need," He wandered up to his chair as he spoke and pulled a bag from under one of the matching tables on either side. Aine couldn't stop the smile that curled her mouth when he brought it to her, "And I have not forgotten. This should more than suffice, though if the Greybeards convince you, you are welcome here in Whiterun. I grant you the title of Thane. You have the right to purchase a home here and I also would like to offer you a housecarl; again if you decide to remain in Skyrim."

Aine stood, her brain at the very end of its rope. Her body protested even that action, her back still sore from Bleak Falls.

"And I'm sure those titles mean something very important, too," She said and realized how ungrateful she sounded, "Apologies, Jarl, I'm done. But thank you for the advice, the title, and the housecarl. Glorified bodyguard, no need to explain it. If I do decide to stay, then I appreciate the offer of a home more than you can know. For now, however, I just want to sleep. Ivarstead awaits."

"You aren't planning on traveling down there tonight, are you?" Farengar asked, his voice concerned, "The Greybeards can wait one more night and you look beyond finished."

"I am done, but no, I'm not traveling to Ivarstead tonight. Riverwood will be as far as I get, I think. I have friends there and there's something… Riverwood's my goal," These people didn't need to know about Arvel's theft and the gold Claw that was going back to Lucan, "I appreciate your help here and if I don't see you again, I wish you all the best with whatever happens in this chaos."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Another rather descriptive chapter, but I like the way this one turned out. Thanks to all my lovely readers and I hope all is well. Take care!

* * *

"I told you, didn't I? Something special."

Aine gave Ralof a smile and lifted her mug. She took a drink and welcomed the heat that snaked through her. The fire was warm against her face, Gerdur had insisted on getting her a bath and then feeding her despite her protests, and she felt too tired to do much else but sit on the floor like she was and drink while watching the flames lick at the wood. Hod was half-dozing in a wooden chair across from her with Frodnar curled fast asleep on his lap. Gerdur made quiet, busy sounds as she put dishes away and Frodnar's grey hound - Luka, she'd learned - rested his chin on her thigh and closed his eyes as she stroked the short, rather coarse hair on his snout. Ralof sat in the matching chair to Hod's immediately to her right and his long legs stretched next to hers. She had told them all that happened over the meal and answered the questions fired at her from all directions. Things had only settled in the past quarter-hour during which Hod dozed and Ralof merely seemed to enjoy her presence without having to speak.

Until now, of course.

"Something special, indeed," She returned and rubbed her face with one hand, ignoring Luka's almost affronted look that she dared to stop petting him, "I'd consider something else entirely if I was actually thinking straight and it definitely isn't 'special'. It'd be closer to idiotic or asinine, to be perfectly honest."

Gerdur chuckled behind her and Ralof grinned.

"Keep up the faith, girl, it's early yet."

"Very uplifting, Ralof, thank you."

"All right, you two," Gerdur pressed her hands to her husband's shoulders and he blinked up at her, "Time for both of you to get to bed."

Hod reached up to pull his wife's mouth to his for a kiss. Aine turned her attention to her drink; the moment was too personal for an audience. She stroked Luka's head again and made the mistake of glancing at Ralof. He watched her with a slight twist to his mouth and his eyes danced a bit when they met hers. Her cheeks felt suddenly warm and she refused to let her eyes fall. That would somehow make this worse.

"Well, Aine, Ralof, I guess I'll see you two in the morning. Good night."

Aine was only too happy to have a viable excuse to transfer her attention and she wished Hod a good night. He disappeared around the corner and the stairs creaked under his weight as he went up. Gerdur had followed, but she returned a moment later with an armload of bedding. Aine started up to help and her back twinged, making her wince and eliciting a quiet gasp.

"You okay, Aine?" Ralof had leaned toward her so quickly she barely saw him move and one of his hands gripped her arm, "What happened?"

"I'm fine," She heard the breathless quality in her voice and she shook her head, "I'm fine, really. I took a fall in the barrow and like I told Hod, it's been a while since I've done any riding."

"And you need some sleep," Gerdur cut in briskly, her hands on her hips as she fixed Aine with a knowing look, "You're upstairs in Frodnar's room and don't protest. The boy will bed down with us tonight. And don't let this one keep you up too late. He'll keep you talking unless you force a 'good night' or just leave the room."

"I promise, Gerdur," Aine smiled up at the Nord, her pain easing, "You've been entirely too kind and I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"I told you, no repaying. You're a friend and that's what one does for a friend," She put her hand on Ralof's shoulder and bent to kiss his cheek. Her head remained close to his for a moment and then she pulled back and Ralof's eyes followed her with a gleam that told Aine something had just passed between these two. It was really none of her business, but that would never stop her curiousity. Gerdur moved to her and one hand stroked briefly across her hair, "Good night and sleep well."

The Nord left them and Aine finished her mead, putting the mug on the floor beside her. She glanced up at Ralof again, still almost too tired to move.

"Well," He said.

"Well," She repeated.

Ralof slid from the chair and sat on the floor beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He pushed the mug out of the way so they were that much closer and she felt her heart hammer in her chest. She tilted herself a bit away to look at him. His dark eyes, those gold flecks so unusual and striking, were already on her face and she forced herself to remain at least somewhat calm. She arched one brow.

"Is there-"

"You should have asked me, Aine, you really should have. To think that you risked Bleak Falls by yourself… Why didn't you?"

Aine certainly hadn't expected this and she opened her mouth only to close it again and turn her attention back to the flames in the hearth. She studied the way the little fingers ate at the wood and thought this one over. The main reason, of course, was because she hadn't believed it right to ask him when he had already seen her though so much; the other reasons… were a bit more complicated and she wasn't ready for _them_ either.

"You helped me so much, Ralof. You kept me safe without even knowing who I was or what I did and I just… I don't know, I just thought that this would be presumptuous. I couldn't ask you to risk your neck when I made a deal with Balgruff that does nothing to benefit you. This was my task, not yours. And you really ought to know better," She nudged his foot with hers, working around the dryness of her mouth at the look he gave her, "You shouldn't put a girl in this sort of predicament; that's rather rude, sir."

"Would that I could with some of the predicaments I _am_ considering at this moment."

Aine's heart threatened to drum right out of her chest at what that tone promised and she couldn't look at him. Instead, she pushed Luka's head from her leg and started to her feet. Her back let her know it wasn't happy with her and she had to put that pain aside rather viciously. Showing weakness now would prove to be incredibly unwise. She was in a crouch when Ralof's hand circled her wrist and held tight. Her eyes fixed on where he gripped her and she was painfully aware that he could feel the sudden leap in her pulse. It took a moment, but she finally looked up at him. His expression was quite serious and Aine's world maybe steadied for a time.

"I shouldn't have said that, Aine, I'm sorry. I never meant to… that's not true, I wanted to… I wanted - well, hell!"

His sudden loss bolstered her and she shook her head a bit.

"I know," She spoke quietly and touched his fingers with her free hand, "But I think we can both agree that this would be acting on those emotions that near execution and the destruction of Helgen brought about. No one thinks clearly in that sort of situation. Men and women do things they never normally would when confronted with a life or death scenario and… Ralof, you have found a friend; forever as far as I am concerned, but this… I'm so afraid it would destroy that. Can you understand? I mean, does that make sense? I don't feel I'm explaining it well at all and I'm just so tired that-"

She abruptly stopped talking when he pulled her down beside him once more. He turned so that he could lean against the chair he'd recently vacated and Aine suddenly found herself pressed to his chest. She stiffened for the briefest moment, but his hands were gentle and insistent, and she let out a sigh of surrender. Her head pillowed into the curve of his shoulder and neck and she felt his cheek against her hair. She closed her eyes and wondered how the hell this came about.

"I get it, girl, don't worry yourself," His breath made strands of her hair flutter, "Just know I'll be here, whenever you're ready. I call bullshit on the execution and Helgen comments, but I've been around a bit longer than you and I know myself well enough that-" She felt his lips press against her head and then he went on, "You're something special, Aine, and I won't be proved wrong. Not here either."

She couldn't help but smile and she relaxed even further into him. The heat of the hearth was making her so drowsy and she was so exhausted she didn't mind the hard floor at all.

"I'll just have to wait and see, Ralof. Be patient, if you're serious."

"I intend to, girl. I certainly intend to."

* * *

Ivarstead was smaller than Riverwood, though just as quaint. Aine had heard of it, but had never seen the town before and she realized now she wasn't missing a thing. She had made good time from Riverwood and rode through town toward the far end where Ralof directed her. There were a few men, one looked to be a town guard, clustered at her end of a bridge that spanned the river here and she reined in Lettie when she reached them.

"Good morning," She greeted, "Could you give me any advice on the pilgrimage up to High Hrothgar?"

One of the men stood forward, his bald head and bright grey eyes gleaming in the morning light.

"You'll want to leave your mount here, lady. High Hrothgar doesn't have stables."

"Brilliant," She slid from Lettie's saddle and tossed the reins over the mare's head. Her eyes met the man's, "How about Ivarstead itself? I think I must've missed the stables."

"You didn't," This was the guard and he looked close to her age and too interested, "But the Vilemyr Inn will keep her. They have the facilities for it."

She nodded at him and then turned a smile on the one who first spoke.

"Thank you for your help, sir."

She had already led Lettie halfway to the inn when the man caught up with her. He fell into step beside her and didn't wait for an invitation before starting in.

"My name is Klimmek."

Aine gave him her name only because he seemed intent on it. The Nord followed her to the inn and waited while she made arrangements for Lettie, but didn't mention why until she had grabbed her things and started back to the path.

"Since you're already making the trip to High Hrothgar, I wonder if I could ask you a favor?"

Aine turned to look at him, not the least bit surprised that this came about. She tried to keep her temper in check and she looked at him with raised brows.

"I suppose it depends on what it is, doesn't it? What seems to be the trouble?"

"Oh no trouble, really, lady. It's just a favor. I've been the one to make deliveries to the priests up there, but I'm getting too old for this constant hike. The seven thousand steps are starting to get difficult for me. Could I ask you to make the delivery? I can pay you, of course. Not much, but at least something for your trouble."

She hesitated and allowed her diplomatic voice freedom once more. It was happening more and more often lately and she wondered what that meant.

"No trouble, sir, I'd be happy to take the supplies without payment."

His face brightened and she felt a little balm to her heart at the genuine pleasure her offer brought about. Klimmek gave her the pack and instructions on how to handle them. He had nothing to add to what Ralof had already told her and she started up the seven thousand steps in search of answers.

The air was cold and only grew colder as she climbed. It truly was a matter of following the steps and she allowed her mind to wander as she did so.

Meara had been put second for a time, given Jarl Balgruff's deals and the complications with Ralof. Now, though… now, she didn't have a choice but to consider the loss. Her heart ached fiercely when she did and it definitely wasn't a pleasant thought, but there was something cathartic in the experience and she found herself wanting to welcome it with open arms.

She brushed aside the memories of Meara's last moments and instead dwelt on the good moments: their first meeting, Meara tending to her scrapes and bruises with her maternal love, Aine's disastrous first crush that Meara led her through; and numerous others. Aine had forced Meara to embrace her reckless side and she found herself smiling when she thought of the time they were twenty and eighteen, and she had convinced Meara to help her lift a trinket box from a ship in the harbor. Meara had to be talked into flirting with and distracting the men and she had been a natural. Until one of the sailors had propositioned her and Meara punched the ass in the face. The man hadn't actually minded; in fact, it made him more amorous than ever, but Aine still felt that urge to chuckle each time she thought about it and now was no exception.

She gave free rein to her memories and walked up the trail as if in a dream. The cold pinched and bit at her, but she ignored it as she did the few other pilgrims she passed on the way. She hardly paid attention as the path changed from winding through clutches of trees and boulders to clinging to the side of the mountain with a terrifying drop to the valley below. The weather worsened as she hiked up into the clouds and there were a few times where she was very grateful for the trail markers. Goats, large rabbits, and the occasional deer were the only wildlife she saw for the moment and the trail had leveled out before she ran into more trouble.

A collection of boulders lined one side of the path and the other side was nothing but a stretch of more large rocks. She spotted the flash of dirty white and she froze. If she wasn't mistaken, and she didn't believe for a moment that she was, that was the coat of a frost troll she had just spotted and Meara faded to the background. Things had suddenly grown more serious and she had to make a plan. She studied the boulders lining both sides and crept closer. The boulders on the outside edge of the path looked more doable and she trudged through the snow drifts toward them, keeping a careful eye on the other side for that flash of white. The rocks were cold and slick in places, but she managed to scrambled over them and avoid the frost troll. As she continued upward, she thought she could hear a faint growl, but she hurried around the next bend and refused to look over her shoulder.

She passed more trail markers and small altars, and soon had to contend with a fierce wind that tossed snow into her face and forced her to keep her eyes on her feet and the stone steps. The path clung to the peaks, winding steadily up, and she finally lifted her head and saw High Hrothgar's hulking shape through the flying snow. The wide stairs split halfway up and she saw the large trunk Klimmek had mentioned positioned almost exactly in the middle of the landing. The monastery seemed a part of the mountain itself, its long rectangular body stretching out from the rocks like it was just another peak. The large wooden doors were banded with iron and the narrow windows were dark, but watchful.

Aine trudged up the steps and sheltered near the door to knock the snow from her cloak. She debated on leaving the supplies where Klimmek had instructed, but it seemed silly considering that she was meeting with the inhabitants. She raised one hand to knock on the door and heard it click. Frowning, she pressed her palm to it instead and it swung inward easily, for all its intimidating size. The interior was dark and almost humid. She heard flames crackling further in and the steps leading down to a flagstone floor were almost hidden in shadows. The place was quiet and she supposed some would find it peaceful, but she found it eerie. The flames let out a bluish light and she was on the second to last stair when someone spoke.

"Welcome, daughter, we have been waiting."

Aine started and finally spotted the grey clad figures emerge from the bowels of the monastery. There were four, each one dressed exactly like the other in dark, smoky grey with the hoods drawn up over their heads. All of them were men and she found that 'Greybeard' meant just that as they all wore grey beards. Three of them moved to stand at the edges of a carved flagstone and the fourth drew closer to her.

"Enter, please. There is no danger here for you."

It was the same one that had spoken and Aine descended the rest of the steps. She glanced around at each of them, smelling a sage-like incense and roasting meat. The gloom had lost a bit of its eeriness and she could feel the power of these men. They were not to be trifled with.

"I believe you. I have questions," She took a minute to formulate exactly what she wanted to say, but it really wasn't any use. If everything she had heard about the Greybeard was true than anything she said would just be repetition, "These claims of Dragonborn - I don't understand. What is the Dragonborn? What does this prophecy really mean?"

"How quickly men forget the past," The old man said and Aine bristled, "The prophecy from the Elder Scroll speaks of a tumult in Skyrim, brother fighting brother, and the dragons' return. Alduin, world-eater, rises to power once more and there is only one that follows in Tiber Septim, Reman Cyrodiil, and Miraak's footsteps to banish him once and for all. One born mortal, but carrying the soul of a dragon. _This_ is the Dragonborn; _you_ are the Dragonborn."

Aine's reaction was more unbelief than fear and she spread her hands.

"How? Why me?"

"We do not get to choose our fate, Dragon-"

"Please," She held up one hand and shook her head, "Not yet. I need… Not yet."

The Greybeard cocked his head and then nodded slowly.

"Very well, you wish more evidence. Will Ysmir do?"

"Well, my name is Aine, but if you're really intent on titles, sure. Don't bother to tell me what it means, I'm sure it's something dragon-related and I really don't want to know right now. And you? What do I call you? Or will Greybeard do?"

"Arngeir, and now let us show you what you are," He turned to his fellow Greybeards and they stood at attention near that same flagstone, "Come, Ysmir, we will show you how to use your Thu'um, your voice."

Aine had no choice but to move closer as well. The three Greybeards remained silent and watchful, and she glanced at Arngeir.

"What do I do?"

"Use your voice, focus on the power you took from the dragon Mirmulnir, and speak at me."

She frowned and then almost laughed, it sounded so ridiculous. But Arngeir was entirely serious and she lifted her shoulders, trying to do as he instructed. She closed her eyes a bit, feeling like a fool, and thought again of the way those currents had swept over and around her. Her lips parted and she spoke without really realizing it. It wasn't Common or Nordic that escaped her, it was something else entirely, and she opened her eyes in time to see Arngeir stagger back at the force of whatever this was. She blinked and felt that power in her thrum, almost in pleasure.

"Good, very good," Arngeir looked at her rather shrewdly, "There is strong power in you, Ysmir. Our next task is this: each of my brothers will summon a wraith. Use your Thu'um and banish them."

Aine didn't have a chance to ask any questions. The first of the Greybeards whispered a hoarse word and suddenly a wispy wraith materialized in front of her. She reacted instantly, following Arngeir's instructions. The force of the word made the wraith fade away again and she repeated the process with the other two. The three Greybeards remained silent and Arngeir moved closer.

"Well done. Now, follow us. We have one last test for you."

The Greybeards led her through one of the wings of the building and outside to a large courtyard area. The wind still blew snow about, but here behind the building it was somewhat sheltered. Across from the monastery was another flight of steps that seemed to lead to nowhere and Aine frowned, but Arngeir spoke first.

"The Thu'um I speak of is also called a Shout. The word of power you absorbed in Bleak Falls Barrow is what you just practiced with us. This is how the dragons of old battled; in a layman's words: they shouted one another - and humans - to death."

Aine cocked her head.

"And this is how Ulfric killed the high king? He has this power as well?"

"Ulfric studied the Way of the Voice before giving in to his impulsive tendencies and abandoning this path. He has abused the power given to him and we will not speak on this matter."

Aine felt her lips start to curl into a smile and she fought against it. Clearly this wasn't the topic to discuss with Arngeir and she had a hard time of it killing her old nature.

"Fair enough. What do you need me to do here?"

The Greybeard's eyes still glittered and he seemed to need a moment before he turned and uttered a word. Aine felt an odd tug at that power in her and the word became runes in the snow at their feet. Her mischievous tilt toward teasing Arngeir slowly faded and as she studied the sharp runes, they faded away and the power grew larger and somehow warmer. It was almost like she had just taken a shot of whiskey. She could feel warmth seep through from the top of her head down to her fingertips and toes. Her eyes met Arngeir's.

"That's better than the word wall," She offered, "Now what?"

Arngeir motioned with one hand and Aine turned to see two of the Greybeards standing close by while the third stood several yards away at a gate that loomed dark against the snow.

"Borri will open the gate. What I have just taught you is the Whirlwind Sprint; use this power to go through the gate before it closes," He fixed her with a rather stern look, "Remember that violence and death are not always the way."

"But how do I know it's the right Shout?"

"You will know."

Aine looked back at the gate and focused. Borri pulled a lever, the gate opened, and she opened her mouth. A moment later and she was through the open gate seconds before it closed. She stood for a moment, gazing through the snow at the drop down the peak straight ahead. Part of her recognized that the view, if the weather was fine, would be phenomenal, and the other part prodded her to get back on track.

The gate opened again and she slipped through. One of the men waved to her and she followed them back into the monastery. Arngeir kept near her as the others disappeared in different directions.

"Now are you ready to accept your fate? To accept your title?"

She inhaled quietly and held the breath. The signs might have been there, but she couldn't stop her old stubborn nature from taking hold. She shook her head a little.

"Ulfric has the power as well; I am not special in this," She lifted her shoulders when Arngeir's eyes flickered, "I know how that sounds, Arngeir, but I can't help it. This is all so surreal and… I just can't quite get my head around it."

He let out a sigh and waved his hand again before he started walking.

"Very well, another task then. The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller must be retrieved and you are the one to do so."

She glanced sidelong at him as they entered a long narrow room where one of the other Greybeards was tending a fire. Bookshelves lined the walls crammed with tomes, scrolls, and other oddities that made Aine's fingers itch in an old way. She pushed it aside easily enough and kept her attention on Arngeir. He crossed to a large ornate desk in one corner of the room that was neatly stacked with parchments, a few more books, and a beautiful ink well and quill. His fingers wandered through the stacks and finally uncovered a worn scroll. It unfurled to reveal a very detailed map of Skyrim, the names of cities, towns, rivers, ranges, lakes; everything written in a flowing, graceful hand. Aine bent her head closer; she had always had a fascination for maps and this one was somehow beautiful in its detail.

"The Horn of who?" She finally asked.

"Jurgen Windcaller. He is the founder of our order and a hero from the First Era. He began the Way of the Voice which we now follow; we use our Thu'um for the glorification and praise of the gods, not violence or war. The Horn was buried with him in Ustengrav, this tomb here," One of Arngeir's fingers pointed to an upside-down trident shape on the map, "This item was meant to rest here, at the monastery Jurgen Windcaller built, but his wishes were not heeded. Retrieve this for us. In this tumultuous time where the dangers present are akin to those in his life, we need his Horn."

Aine let out a sigh and studied the map again where his finger pressed. The tomb was north of Morthal and south and east of Solitude. She felt her spine stiffen a bit in distaste: she had absolutely no desire to get anywhere near Solitude for the moment and she glanced up at Arngeir. Her impatience sparked. The money bag was heavy on her hip, reminding her of her deal with Balgruff. She was so ready to get out of Skyrim and that was becoming less and less likely as she learned more about this prophecy. Her persistent refusal to admit what seemed so obvious to Arngeir was still quite strong and that exhausted and depressed part of her whispered to throw this back on the Greybeards and simply leave. And yet…

"Is there anything I need to know about Ustengrav?" She heard herself ask the question and felt that resistance begin to die. It was… rather disheartening. A sinking sensation accompanied it as she realized what she was doing. Skyrim had won, "I mean, other than the obvious, I suppose."

Had Arngeir showed any bit of smug pleasure at her capitulation, she probably would have killed him. He didn't, however, merely turned to study the map before he answered.

"No, you seem quite aware of the tendency of bandits and other - unwanted - to inhabit these places and I can think of nothing else except…" He fixed her with a steady look, "Remember what we have taught you here today, Ysmir, and the gods guide you."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hello to all! Start of another week when catalinaD is on time, yay! As always, Skyrim does not belong to me, I just play in its world when I get the chance. I hope you all have a wonderful week and take care!

* * *

It took Aine a few days to get to Morthal and it was well into the evening when she did. She had been there before, but she had forgotten just how cold the wind was off even these inland waterways. She made her way to the Moorside Inn, Lettie's reins grasped in one hand. The inn had its own stables here, like many of Skyrim's smaller villages, and there was no worrying that her mount might be stolen from stables on the outskirts. Snow had stopped falling about midday and now stars shone brightly in the night sky. She breathed in the fresh air and, as soon as Lettie was set for the night, she wandered inside.

There were a few customers still at the tables with mugs in hand and she ignored them, heading straight for the proprietor. She paid for a room, dropped her things, and then wandered back out for a bite before she went to bed. The food was good, hearty, and she enjoyed her bowl of hare and potato stew when a voice spoke behind her.

"Well, if it isn't little inferno. Gods, Aine, what are you doing in Morthal?"

Aine turned about, but the one who spoke had already dropped into the seat beside her and lifted one of the slices of bread from her plate. It was a stocky Breton, his brown hair still gleaming with shoots of red. His boyish face was young as ever and his pale brown eyes danced when they met hers. A crooked smile twisted his mouth and Aine was actually rather pleased to see Seamus Hady for one of a _very_ few times.

"I might ask you the same thing, Seamus. I thought you were pretty well situated in Solitude. What happened?"

"Hey, I asked you first."

Aine gave him a look. She had known Seamus for years and never once had he skipped over an opportunity to talk about himself. He usually drove her crazy, never mind how entertaining he could be, and she wondered what had changed.

"Just passing though. Night kind of snuck up on me and I needed a place to bed down. Your turn."

"Are you buying?" He waved the barkeep over and got Aine's glass refilled while getting one for himself, "Things got a little hairy in Solitude and I thought I'd head south. And then of course, I hear that there's actual dragons buzzing around down there and I think I'm screwed. Unless I head for Hammerfell or Morrowind. High Rock is just a little grim for my taste. And I thought you and Meara were heading south, too? Though maybe you ran into the same trouble. And I saw Percival, so I figured you just changed your mind and-"

Seamus' flow of words would have gone on and on if Aine hadn't started at that. She bolted erect and lost her appetite. Her eyes fixed on Seamus and everything else faded from her mind. Holding one hand up, she searched for the right words.

"Are you saying - do you mean you saw him a few weeks ago? I mean, you didn't see him recently, right?"

"No, that's what I mean. It was just the other day; maybe two days ago? Oh well, it was on the road here. He was with a bunch of soldiers and didn't see me, but there's no mistaking that one. I've known him for years. Does this mean he and Kerry are through? I'd like to-"

"Seamus, shut up for a minute," Aine hissed and shoved her bowl away. She wanted to get up and pace, but she killed that notion. Her anger was building steadily and she was incredibly close to becoming that 'inferno'. She clasped her fingers tightly together, worried she'd lash out and hurt the Breton when he didn't deserve it. Not totally, anyway, "You said he was with soldiers. Did it look like he was under arrest?"

Seamus had already taken over her supper and she didn't care. His shoulders lifted and he spoke around bites.

"Nope, I'd say he was part of the troop or at least a friend. He wasn't cuffed or anything and he was talking with them like they knew each other pretty well."

Aine had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was shaking with fury and half-way out of her seat before her more rational side could remind her that this was at least two days ago and who the hell knew where the weasel was now. She slowly sank back down and she fought for control.

"He was heading into Solitude you think?"

"Most likely. They were headed north and I jumped the road when I heard them," He looked suddenly sheepish and Aine felt a bit of her anger subside. That was never a good look on Seamus, "No need to push my luck."

This helped. Her anger faded a bit more.

"Are you using again, Seamus?" She got her answer in the way he looked away from her and pushed the spoon around the bowl, "Come on, I thought you were through."

"I was. And don't look at me like that, Anni. You never used and you can't know…" He trailed off when she arched her brow and then lifted his shoulders, "Okay, I know. I made a mistake and I'm… Hell, I'm screwed right now."

Aine let out another breath and worry now replaced the anger. She cocked her head at him and rested her elbows on the table, supporting her chin with her hands.

"Seamus… I won't lecture you; you know them all already. How did it happen this time?"

"I - um - I fell in with Ta'deen again," He held up one hand when Aine's lips parted and she bit her tongue, "Like you said, I know them all already. Ta'deen was… he was - persuasive. He said just one shipment and before I knew it-"

"Before you knew it, you were back on skooma again. Honestly - no, never mind. So does this mean you're headed for Riften? Come on, Seamus, that's the bottom of the barrel."

"You think I don't know that, Anni?" He looked angry and Aine was pleased to see it. She had never had patience with his skooma habit and this was not the first time they had butted heads on the matter. It was the first time he got truly angry, however, and she took it as a good sign, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Get on with a good crew, get out of Solitude; avoid Riften," Aine spread her hands, "You know that, Seamus, I shouldn't have to keep reminding you. What happened to that position in Markarth you were considering a few months back? Didn't the Altmer say it was yours whenever you wanted it? Take that and forget about Riften, you don't need it. You've got to break these old habits."

Seamus looked at her without a break and she felt a little squirm of pleasure at the fact that he was actually taking her words to heart. After that mention of Percival, this was the very last conversation she expected to have with him, but she didn't question it too much. She firmly believed that people were placed in your life when you needed them and Seamus clearly needed someone to tell him that he was being an idiot. In a way.

"You really think I can do it, Anni?"

"Of course, I have proof," She smiled at his confusion, "You've done it before."

"But I always slip back and-"

"You slip back because nothing changes. You need a change of scenery. Don't stay in Solitude; go to Markarth and take the Altmer up on his offer," She drew her mug close to her and took a sip, "You're an excellent blacksmith, Seamus, take a chance."

"You really believe that?"

"Would I say it if I didn't?"

Seamus thought about that for a minute and his pale eyes met hers again.

"Probably, but I think you're serious this time. Okay, Anni, we have a deal: I'll head to Markarth and forget about Riften," He went back to her supper, the topic already in the back of his head, "And now it's your turn. Where _is_ Meara? I thought you two were inseparable. Or at least enough to drive Civ nuts."

Aine's heart gave an awful twinge and she took another drink, not ready for this conversation. She didn't like the idea of lying to him and her anger flared again. The thought of Percival walking the earth whole and seemingly unaffected was… Hell, it was hard to take.

"She's south," She answered abruptly and then went on before he could cut in, "I'm finishing up my business here and then heading that way, too. I think it's time to get out of Skyrim."

"After talking me into staying at Markarth. Thanks, Anni," He lifted his mug in a toast to her and drank, "So this means she and Civ are through, huh? Tell her I'm not at all sorry to hear it. What's your business here?"

Aine wasn't really expecting the question and she blinked at him before she could stop herself. Cursing inwardly, she tried to hide it with a drink of her own, but Seamus was a lot quicker than he appeared and his eyes lit.

"Nothing much, just something I have to finish up. How was my supper?"

"You weren't eating it. Is the reward really that great?"

She rolled her eyes and at least that felt genuine. There was the slightest flicker of uncertainty in Seamus' gaze and she tried to play that up.

"What reward? It's just something I've got to finish, that's it."

Seamus pressed his lips together and gave a slow nod.

"Must have been a good pay-out, well done."

Aine shook her head, finished her drink and got to her feet. She touched his shoulder in an uncharacteristic fashion and nodded to him.

"You'll be fine, Seamus. Take care of yourself."

He looked up at her in surprise, his pale eyes almost hurt.

"Deserting me already? We haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks. Let's at least get caught up."

"Isn't that what we just did? Not tonight, Seamus, I have to get an early start," Her resolve softened a bit at his disappointed expression. He was annoying at times, way too exuberant for her taste a lot of the time, but he was a good friend; loyal and affectionate, "If you don't leave town right away, I'll stop back in on my way south and we'll get caught up then, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan. Good night, Anni."

* * *

Aine must have passed by Ustengrav at least three times before she stumbled upon it. The entrance was marked only by an odd rippled rim around the gaping hole in the earth. Wooden steps led down to the door and she treated Lettie to one of her carrots, looped her reins so she could bolt if need be, and ventured down the steps. There was a body sprawled off to the left and she tensed. She hadn't seen anyone and she slowly eased closer to get a better look. It was a recent kill and the man's clothes were grimy, but there was no evidence of any open wounds. She knew that could only mean magic and she made sure both her knives and bow were ready.

The door wasn't locked and she found herself in a small, almost foyer-like area. The doorway ahead was dimly lit and she tiptoed forward, peering around the corner. She could make out three shapes at the other end of a large chamber and there was a row of barrels nearby that she rolled toward. Her bow was in one hand and she watched the shapes for a moment before taking any of them out. Two were bent over a table against one wall of the cavern and the third paced back and forth at the other wall. She drew back a bit into the shadows behind her and stood, drawing the bow. The arrow she let fly was coated with a rather potent poison and the form dropped to the ground. The other two whirled about and ran to their comrade. Aine could hear their rather panicked voices and she crouched behind the barrels again, her hand finding one of her knives. The air shifted and she cursed inwardly when the footsteps started her way.

She didn't waste time. Arching up, she flung her knife and threw herself back on the ground when flames shot over her head. Curses sounded and she scrambled around to the end of the barrels, the other knife at the ready. More spells flew about her and she ducked her head, risking exposure to see where her other target was. One body lay sprawled on the ground and the other caught her movement. Ice shot by her hiding spot and Aine ducked back. She kept the barrels between them and tossed her knife. It sailed just past the enchanter's head and she grabbed the bow. Another spell scorched her and she jumped to her feet, ready to fire. The enchanter was ready, too, and more ready than she was. The spell came at her and she suddenly found herself on the floor, protected by both the barrels and someone's shield.

Whoever it was jumped to their feet and she heard a familiar voice call the enchanter a few choice names as he cut her down. Seamus looked exhilarated and he cleaned his sword with the enchanter's robe before sliding it back into its scabbard. Aine looked at him in stunned surprise for a moment as she got to her feet and came around the barrels.

"Seamus? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I couldn't help it, Anni. You were so closed-lipped about it and my curiousity got the better of me," He riffled through the pockets of both the enchanters, "Want to tell me what this is about now since I plan on trailing you through this place?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh.

"Really, Seamus, you-"

"You know better. Come on, spill."

She hesitated for a minute longer and then answered him rather carefully.

"I need to retrieve something for some folks in Ivarstead. The reward was pretty great, but I don't get anything if I don't bring it back, so here I am."

Seamus studied her with a closed expression and she wondered if he had really become that shrewd. He got to his feet and lifted his shoulders.

"You're playing this pretty close, Anni, and that's okay. But I'm still coming along."

"What about Markarth?"

"It's not going anywhere and you're more fun right now. Not to mention easier on the eyes."

Aine rolled her own eyes and started across the cavern to the head further in. She didn't acknowledge his flattery, it would only encourage him.

"Shy of hitting you over the head and tying you here, I can't stop you. Keep your eyes open."

Despite her words, she was rather pleased to have the companionship and past experience told her that Seamus could be quite an intimidating presence when he wanted. He looked friendly enough, but his shoulders were broad and heavy and he had a trick of setting his jaw that gave him an expression of complete immovability. The tomb was much like Bleak Falls, the path stone-flagged and oil lamps burning softly in their sconces. As they ventured further in, they could hear fighting and they both readied themselves.

In another smaller cavern more enchanters were fighting against a handful of draugr and Aine held Seamus back a moment. She waved one hand at him when he gave her a confused look and he settled beside her. The three enchanters held their own against the draugr, but when one of them went down, the others began to struggle. Two of the five draugr were dropped, a third wounded, but they still managed to cut down the enchanters. Aine had pulled loose her bow in the process and Seamus already held his sword. The wounded one was dispatched and the other two charged at them. Aine ended up dropping the bow and taking one on with her little axe and Seamus cut down the other easily.

They wound further into the tomb, reaching another open cavern with more draugr. Aine forced Seamus to sneak along beside her and the undead were never too overwhelming thanks to her caution. She felt his impatience with this, but she really didn't care. He had volunteered himself here and as far as she was concerned, she was in charge.

"Come on, Anni," He said softly as he followed her up a wooden ramp to the second floor of the chamber, "This is making my legs cramp like crazy. Let me just charge ahead and clear a path, huh?"

"Not a chance," She hissed and slowed when they reached the top. That hissing sound of the draugrs' breath was absent and she waved him to follow, "These things spring up when they sense the movement of others. Sneaking slows that and I'm not about to risk a mob of them because you never bothered to learn how to properly creep around."

He actually chuckled at that and they headed over a narrow stone bridge to a large door that stood almost in the center of the room.

"And you take the blame for never learning how to storm a place. Good to work with you again, Aine."

She gave him a slight smile and pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, but she slipped through with him right behind. This path was much larger than the previous ones. The ceiling disappeared above them, but the floor had remained the same flagstone. Aine stepped forward and studied the floor with a frown. There was something off about it and she couldn't quite make out what it was. Something told her not to step on those flagstones and she glanced about until she found a decent-sized rock. Seamus watched her, his expression half-way between confusion and amusement.

"What-"

She tossed the stone and the sudden eruption of flames stopped him short. Aine stepped back and watched the fire shoot across almost to the other wall. It burned for a few moments and then sputtered to a stop.

"I thought that looked odd," She said and glanced up at Seamus, "How are your muscles?"

He frowned at her and then couldn't help but grin.

"Screaming for more. But how the hell are we supposed to do this? We're heavier than that stone."

"It's the middle of the stones," She answered easily and moved until her boot rested on the edge of one of them. Seamus' hand was tight on her elbow and she shook her head, pushing down, "See? Just step on the edges and we'll get through this fine. That was why they looked so odd. See how the middle is bubbled up a bit? That's where the triggers are."

"No wonder you guys were some of the best," Seamus muttered and followed her lead.

She tipped her head in something like acknowledgment and started across, keeping close to one wall and feeling Seamus behind her. Occasionally he reached out to balance himself with her shoulder and despite her doubts, he managed to avoid accidentally setting them off. They followed the path further down and into the earth, killed a few more draugr that stood in their way, and came up against a gate. The lever was hidden in the shadows near it and Seamus held Aine up for a moment.

"Hang on a minute, Anni, do you have any lock picks?"

She glanced around at him and he waved at a large chest opposite the lever. She moved to it and knelt down, pulling out her lock pick set. The lock was old and didn't pose much of a challenge. Seamus took up a heavy shield from one side of the chest, dropping his own in a way that told Aine he had just found something very special. There was a Dwarven bow resting at the bottom along with a few garnets and scattered bits of jewelry.

"Take that, Aine," Seamus said seriously. She glanced up at him and he nodded to that bow, "That's old and incredibly fine. Take it; it's better than that stick you're using now."

"I suppose I have to take a blacksmith at his word."

Her words earned that boyish grin and she slung the bow over her shoulder, setting her other bow with his shield. She turned back and pulled the lever, sending the gate rattling upward. They wound through a few more tunnels and ended up on an open path overlooking a massive cavern. Down the path ahead of them was what looked like a sanctuary of sorts with pews scattered in front of an ornate throne. Aine's eyes picked up the slumped skeletal form in the chair even with the distance and guarding the huge stone bridge were two more skeleton archers. The ceiling of the place arched up high above them and a natural opening in the earth allowed light to slant downward.

Seamus pointed over her shoulder at more skeleton archers above the throne on an open floor. She nodded, pulled the bow loose and took aim. The first arrow cracked sharply on the stone just behind the skeleton and set the thing on edge. Luckily, they weren't all that bright and Aine took out the two pacing up above as the one in the throne sprang upward and the other two started frantically searching the ground below, looking for their target.

Seamus didn't wait for her to finish, instead bolting down the path with his sword swinging. Aine muttered a curse under her breath and followed after him. The skeletons didn't pose much of a challenge and Seamus led the way over the big bridge. Aine could hear more hissing and she grabbed his elbow, tugging him behind a clutch of boulders near the other side. They crouched together and she spotted the movement of more skeletons. These were easier to take out and they studied this new obstacle.

Three rounded, rune covered stones stood in the middle of the floor here, staggered rather randomly between them and another - or rather three other - gates. They were lined one after the other and the stones reached about to Aine's shoulders. As she and Seamus moved past them, the first began to shimmer and glow. In that same instant, the first of the gates moved upward with a clang and echoing rattle. Seamus let out a breath and started forward only to have the gate slam shut in his face. She went after him and the second stone glowed, making the second gate open. She paused for a moment, ignoring Seamus' soft curses, and then tried with the third gate, getting the exact results. Her eyes flicked to each stone as Seamus turned to her.

 _Remember that violence and death are not always the way._ Arngeir's words came back to her and she returned to the first stone, hearing the gates rattle up and then clang shut as she walked by the stones again. The movement was slow enough to give one hope and yet quick enough to let you know you'd never make it in time.

"Hell, Aine-"

She held up one hand, cutting him short.

"Get out of the way for a minute, Seamus, I'm going to try something."

"What? Aside from-"

"Come on, Seamus, move."

He reluctantly stepped aside, sweeping one arm out for her in a faux-grand gesture. She caught herself just before she rolled her eyes and focused instead. Something told her she couldn't quite manage the Whirlwind twice and so she just took off, running past the rune-stones and then Shouting once she cleared the last. As with High Hrothgar, everything blurred and she stopped so close to that last gate that she felt it knick her quiver when it slammed back down. She had to search, but finally found a lever in the wall.

Seamus was all wide-eyed astonishment when he came through the tunnel after her. She met him stare for stare, her brows arching up. He studied her, glanced over his shoulder at the open gates, and then looked at her again. It was still little 'Anni', his inferno, but there was a definite change in her; other than what she'd just pulled off.

"There is no client, is there? This is something else completely, right?"

"No, there's a client, but you're right, it's something else."

Aine took a step forward and Seamus followed immediately.

"Well, hang on, Anni. What-"

He was interrupted by the draugr's hissing breath and they were busy for the next few minutes taking them out. Aine couldn't avoid the conversation when they were held up so she could tend a wound to Seamus' arm. His gaze fastened on her face while she worked.

"Tell me," He implored softly, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it.

Aine looked up at him for a beat and then let out a sigh. She bandaged his arm firmly and sat on the ground beside him. Her exhaustion took hold and she pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. All of the sudden, she found herself telling him everything: their botched escape, the near-execution, the dragon at Whiterun; even High Hrothgar and the Greybeards. Seamus sat in silence for a while after she stopped talking, but she didn't mind. It was almost companionable.

"Anni-"

"Don't," She interrupted him somewhat fiercely and held up one hand. His voice was entirely too tender and she couldn't handle that, not now, "Ask me about the dragons, about Helgen, about the Greybeards, their prophecy, and their monastery; but, by the gods, Seamus, don't ask me about Meara."

He dropped his gaze to his hands and nodded. Aine felt a stab of guilt. Seamus and Percival had been friends and his crush on Meara was at least five years old. It was selfish of her to keep him from grieving his way because she wanted to avoid pain.

"I'm sorry, Seamus," She spoke to her fingers, feeling his gaze when it fixed on her face, "It's just… I shouldn't have snapped at you. I-"

"Shut up, Aine," He nudged her elbow with his, "You know by now I only play dumb. You don't want to talk about it, we won't talk about it. Come on, let's get through this place and then the hell out of here."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Here I was doing so well and now I miss a week! Sorry, all! Anyway here's the next installment and I hope you enjoy. Thanks to all my wonderful - and patient - readers. All the best!

* * *

She had no choice but to get up and follow him. They came across another fire trap floor, this one also home to a few frostbite spiders. Aine made good use of her bow, allowing Seamus to take out the spiders that got too close; after surviving the fire traps, that is. This floor was a bit more difficult to manage than the other and both she and Seamus had close calls. They made it, however, though Aine nearly caught her quiver on fire and Seamus' shield was scarred with a few scorch marks.

The doorway ahead was swathed with webs and Seamus cut them down. Another gate barred them and Aine pulled the lever in the shadows. The room they entered was dim, a worn stone pathway led between two deep clear pools, and a stone altar of sorts was just visible on the other side. Aine started down the few steps and the ground rumbled beneath them. Seamus grabbed her elbow, but they didn't have time to act.

The water began frothing and, on either side of the path, statues rose up. Water cascaded from the cracks and crevices in the stone dragon heads and they came to rest against the bridge. Aine slipped from Seamus' hold and felt him at her elbow when she crossed the path to the altar.

More runes decorated the walls in the small alcove and there was another, smaller door straight ahead, matching the one behind them. The altar was roughly five feet wide and about three high with one step ringing its base. The carvings were exquisite and ornate, and two stone claws curled from the top, crafted to cradle something.

But they were empty.

"Shit," Aine muttered and pressed her hands to the surface of the altar. She studied the sweeping carving of the claws and her eyes landed on a small roll of yellow parchment.

"What now?"

Seamus watched over her shoulder as she slid the dark blue ribbon from the parchment and unfurled it. A neat script lined the paper and Aine read it through once before reading it aloud. He would never let it go if she left him out of the loop here.

"'Dragonborn, I need to speak to you. Urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you. A friend.'"

"Smoke and mirrors, Anni. Do you really go in for all of this?"

Aine glanced up at him and saw the beginnings of red in the corners of his eyes. He was starting to crave his skooma and she didn't think she wanted to be down here when it got worse. She rolled the note back up and tucked it into the pouch at her hip.

"Normally, no, but there's too much that's gone the past couple of days for that to hold true now."

She stepped down off the dais and rounded the altar. There were a couple of other chests here and she bent to pick them. Her heart fluttered a bit when she thought about going back to Riverwood. She thought of the way Ralof held her the other night, his arms strong and gentle, his breath soft on the top of her head…

"Come on, Aine, let's get out of here."

Seamus' words cut through her memories and brought her back to this cold, dark reality. Her heart was very reluctant to do so, but at this point in time, she actually agreed with him.

* * *

"Markarth is that way, Seamus," Aine nodded to the road leading west, "But thanks, for your help. I wouldn't have-"

"You're stuck with me, Anni, best get used to it."

Aine reined in Lettie who snorted. The mare knew she was heading home and she let Aine know she didn't care for these delays. She looked hard at Seamus who stared right back.

"Seamus-"

"No use, Aine," Seamus urged his horse on the south road, "You've got me too interested in what happens next."

She let out a hiss of breath, impatience spiking. Lettie fell in beside Tal and Aine glanced sidelong at Seamus.

"I don't think that's possible," She spoke slowly, being quite honest with him. There really wasn't a way to know if he could tag along. At least until she met up with this 'friend', "And I can't ask you to put yourself at that risk."

"Then don't."

Aine started, her heart clenching. Seamus couldn't know how much that hurt her to hear and she kept on her current track of trying to dissuade him.

"You're an ass."

"I know," He answered her cheerfully, "But look at it this way: if that note was left by someone wanting to hurt you, you'll need back-up. That's where I come in."

Aine grudged him that and felt herself surrendering with much more ease than she should have. Traveling with Seamus made time pass by much more quickly. He was not one for silence and he rambled in a nonsense way that actually soothed her. She got the impression he did this to keep her from thinking too much on Meara, but she wasn't about to question him on that. It was entirely too fresh a wound.

Riverwood was exactly the same as when she left, save the extra men from Whiterun. Dusk had settled and though Aine was sorely tempted to stop in at Gerdur and Hod's, she resisted the temptation and led the way to the Sleeping Giant Inn.

Inside, the inn was warm and comfortable, voices bubbling over one another. Locals and visitors alike had gathered and Aine pushed her way to the proprietor. Seamus showed a surprising tact and kept back when the Breton lady turned her attention to Aine. She was a striking woman, her face rather ageless under her reddish-blond hair. She could have been anywhere between thirty to fifty and her green eyes were incredibly intelligent.

"What can I do for you, lady?" She asked, her voice brisk and business-like, "Perhaps a glass of our ale? Warms from the inside out. Or maybe some roast chicken or hare stew?"

"Thank you, no; I just wanted to know if you had a room available. The attic room, if you can."

The lady blinked at her and Aine saw the big shouldered Nord behind her suddenly go still. It was just a flash, but she felt her nerves tighten a bit at it anyway. She forced her face to stay neutral and she cocked her head at the proprietor.

"The attic room? Sorry, lady, we don't have an attic room. I'll show you what we do have available, if you like?"

Aine felt confusion ripple through her, but she nodded her head. The Breton came around the counter and motioned for Aine to follow. They wandered into the back of the inn and the Breton showed her a room tucked somewhat in a corner. The one beside it was occupied, the door pulled shut, but light gleamed underneath.

The proprietor left her and Aine dumped her things. She utilized the chest in the room, locking her weapons away securely. The key was tucked into her pocket and she paced the room briefly before venturing back into the main room. Seamus was already seated with two tankards and a large plate. She made her way to him and dropped into the empty chair. He pushed one tankard to her.

"I wasn't sure what you'd want to eat, so it's just the ale," He said and broke the small chicken in half, "Anything?"

"No," Aine sipped at the ale and found that the proprietor was right; heat curled through her, "But that's not a surprise. It'd be a little too convenient to just fall right into this, wouldn't it?"

Seamus lifted his shoulders, nudging some of the chicken at her. Aine picked at it without much appetite and let her eyes rove over those gathered. She was hoping to see one of Ralof's family, but there was no sign of them. Her gaze went back to Seamus.

"What about you? Are you really going to tag along to the end?"

He looked up at her, wiping his fingers on the napkin she tossed to him. His eyes looked clearer and she wondered when it was he managed to get another fix. She wasn't about to corner him on that now and she arched her brows.

"I'll just hang out in your room. No one here is going to care and that way you're not alone when the time does come."

Aine felt her cheeks heat in spite of herself and she took another bite of chicken. Seamus watched her rather steadily and she shook her head.

"And that might get us both killed."

"What else is there, Anni? Come on, you can't be _that_ worried about it. Remember that night in Morthal when you and Pips had to put on a show for those idiot guards at the vault? How is this worse than that?"

Aine couldn't help the grin that that particular memory conjured. It had been a memorable night, pretending a relationship with Pips for the sake of the haul. Pips - Gustav, actually; Pips was Seamus' nickname for him - who had been blissfully married for at least three years when those events took place. But it _had_ been fun, pretending to be something she would never be, and she had to silently commend Seamus for pulling out such a great example to soothe her.

"Well, you wanted in on this, I suppose you're in on it. All right, Seamus, make sure you're ready."

* * *

It was the middle of the night. Silence ruled the inn and Aine still couldn't sleep. Seamus snored softly from the chair beside the wardrobe, his head supported by both that and the wall. The place creaked and settled around them and she never heard the footsteps. The door swung in silently and Aine, laying flat on her back and staring up at the shadowy ceiling, now propped herself up on her elbows.

"Good," A brisk female said in a murmur and she came into the room, "Alert, that's very good."

"Anni?" Seamus' voice was groggy and he sat upright, his hand dropping to the shield next to his chair.

The proprietor turned to Seamus suddenly and Aine left her bed in a flash.

"Don't!" She hissed and grabbed the Breton woman's arm, "It's fine; he's a friend. Now, what do you want with me?"

The woman pulled her arm from Aine's hold and she noticed the gleaming knife in the Breton's hand. It disappeared a moment later and those green eyes found Aine.

"Come with me, we need a better place to talk."

Aine had no choice but to follow the Breton and she was suddenly quite relieved Seamus was there beside her. They were led back through the quiet inn, the big Nord dozing in a chair behind the bar though giving the impression of alertness somehow, and then down a different passage to a rear room. The Breton ushered them in and pulled the door shut before moving to the large wardrobe in one corner. She busied herself in the shadows and the wardrobe slid to one side, revealing a steep flight of steps leading down. They were dimly lit and the woman started down.

"No attic, but a basement?" Seamus muttered and looked down at Aine, "Are you sure about this?"

"Don't really have a choice."

She went after the Breton and found herself in small room, cramped with an alchemy table, bookcases, weapon racks, a large chest; and in the middle a heavy table strewn with maps. The Breton moved to the other side of the table and looked between the two of them before fixing her gaze on Aine.

"My name is Delphine and you are the alleged Dragonborn," Those green eyes moved over Aine in something like disbelief. "We'll see."

Aine arched her brows, that unbelief more amusing than annoying. She spread her arms.

"So they tell me. What do you have planned for me?"

"I need proof," Delphine's graceful, long-fingered hands swept through the parchments and maps on the table until she found what she was looking for, "There's rumors of dragon activity near Kynesgrove. You'll come with me and I'll see for myself if you are truly what you claim to be."

"Not my claim," Aine replied drily, putting one hand on Seamus' arm when he bristled, "And I really don't see why I should have to prove anything to you. What's your angle in all of this?"

Delphine blinked and Aine felt a sort of pleasure in surprising this demanding woman. She glanced quickly at Seamus and then dismissed him much like she had originally.

"Angle? Why should I have an angle?"

Aine merely arched a brow and the Breton let out a quiet sigh.

"Fair enough, I consent," She righted a few of the paper piles and continued, "I am one of the meager handful of Blades left in the world. My duties are to protect the Dragonborn from any perceived or actual threats and I intend to do so. If you are the Dragonborn, then I am sworn to protect you. You understand why I am eager to make sure you are what the rumors claim."

Aine let that sink in, her mind turning the Breton's words over and over. Seamus shuffled beside her, but it didn't matter. She studied the striking Blade once more and lifted her shoulders.

"I guess I don't really have a choice, do I? Where's Kynesgrove?"

"We can travel together, if you like. If not, I'll show you where you can meet me."

Aine recognized Delphine's _slight_ softening and she fought the urge to milk it. She shook her head.

"We'll come with you. How soon?"

The Blade _almost_ looked thrown.

"As soon as you are able."

Aine nodded and gestured for Seamus to follow her. They went back to her room and she unlocked the chest.

"Seamus, I understand if you want to take off here. Don't worry about it. I can't ask or expect you to help out with this."

Seamus studied Aine, his steady gaze rather unsettling. He was shrewd, much more shrewd than she remembered, and she found herself stopping completely and meeting him stare for stare.

"You've never been hero material, Aine; none of us ever have, too much self-interest and preservation. What the hell is this with you, huh? What has Skyrim ever done for you? Meara's-"

"Stop," Aine hissed, holding up her hand, "Just stop, Seamus, I know that already. That's been playing over and over in my head since it happened, you can't tell me anything new. They took Meara from me and if Percival's still whole and happy, then I've got to do something about it. I can't stand it, Seamus, I just can't stand that idea. I have to do _something_ and maybe this is it. I just - just need it and don't you dare try to take that away from me. Someone has to pay for Meara and… and I…."

Her anger suddenly disappeared and took her strength with it, and she sank onto the edge of her bed. She couldn't look at Seamus just yet and she buried her face in her hands, wishing she was alone. This weakness was _not_ something she wanted to share, but she really wasn't given a choice. The mattress dipped beside her and Seamus' arms were gentle and insistent when they came around her. She stiffened for a half-second and then let him pull her to his chest, tucking her head under his jaw. He rocked her, just slightly, and she was entirely too proud to let herself cry. There was no need to say a word and Seamus was smart enough to know that she would have to be the first to speak. She tipped her head against his shoulder a bit and then disentangled herself. Knocking her hair from her eyes, she let out a shaking sigh and got back to her feet.

"That's enough of that," Her voice was hoarse and she reluctantly looked at Seamus who watched her with a new tenderness she wasn't sure she could stand right now, "But you get it, right? I need this, Seamus, and I really won't blame you if you-"

"Enough, Anni," He interrupted and stood beside her, giving her ponytail an affectionate tug, "I told you already: you're stuck with me."

"All right then. Let's see if our new Blade friend is right."

"I think I'm kind of afraid of her reaction if she isn't."

Aine found herself smiling, this new intimacy with Seamus a balm to her aching spirit. They went back to Delphine's basement room and found her ready and waiting. She gathered up what paperwork she needed and ushered them upstairs. The Nord was awake now and Delphine moved to him, speaking too quietly for Aine and Seamus to hear. He touched her arm with an intimacy not lost on either of them and they left the place, stepping out into the cold night. They gathered their mounts and left out of the south gate. It was dark, cold, and still and Seamus couldn't stifle a yawn as they started east.

"We should reach Kynesgrove by mid-morning if we keep a steady pace," Delphine's askance look at Seamus was just visible, "Are you sure you need your man with you? We could make better-"

"Sorry, Lady Blade, we're a package deal. Can't take one without the other."

Aine rolled her eyes at Seamus' words and didn't take the bait. Delphine, on the other hand…

"It surprises me, Dragonborn, that you would subject someone else to your trials. Are you sure that's wise? Even if you do care for-"

"My name is Aine and this is Seamus. Seamus is an absolute tease and you should ignore about seventy-five percent - no, make it eighty - of what he says," She shrugged when Delphine looked back at her, "We're not lovers. He's a good friend and I think I'm entitled to that at least."

Seamus almost tried to keep up the farce and then he lifted his shoulders, too, and nodded at Delphine.

"Right, just friends. But we're still stuck together so stop trying to break up the team."

This seemed to settle Delphine and she actually relaxed a little. They continued in silence, the Blade riding ahead by about a half-pace, and Aine knew that Seamus dozed off and on in Tal's saddle. It was an admirable trick he'd learned, but she was too alert to follow his lead. The roads were mostly empty; an occasional campsite was visible on the edge of the road, and as morning light crept in, other travelers became a common sight. Seamus argued with Delphine over stopping for breakfast and Aine finally pulled a chunk of jerky and bright red apple from her small pack. She handed both of these over to him and though he grumbled a bit, probably just to annoy the Blade, he accepted them happily. Aine turned her attention to Delphine.

"I have some questions for you, Bl-"

"Delphine, Aine, it's Delphine. At least out here, for now," Delphine's green eyes flicked around the trees and rocks that bordered the road and her breath came out in a cloud of white, "And perhaps we can save the questions for later?"

It could just barely be called a question and Aine studied the Blade for a moment before nodding her head.

"Sure," She glanced up at the blue sky, relishing the absence of snow… for now, "How long have you been in Riverwood?"

"Well, about ten years now. Orgnar and I needed a place and the inn's owner was done with the business. We were in the right place at the right time, though Gerdur was a hard one to win over."

"Gerdur?" Aine looked at Delphine and smiled a little, "She's proved herself a great friend, but I can see how she would be."

"She wasn't crazy about the idea of the town's inn being run by strangers, but she values honesty and hard work. It took some time, but between Hod's convincing and our own efforts, she welcomed us into her little kingdom there. And you're right, she's a good friend. How did you meet her?"

"Through her brother, Ralof. We… traveled north together after Helgen was attacked," She wasn't sure if she should mention Ralof's involvement with the Stormcloaks or not, "That was the first I had met him and he helped me out."

She felt Seamus' gaze on her, which she ignored, and Delphine nodded her head. They were winding down a section of road overlooking a windswept meadow and fast flowing river. A stone bridge spanned the river and there was a worn sign post at the split in the road.

"Ralof's a good man. He gave us a hand re-thatching the roof last year when Orgnar broke his ankle. Gerdur's going to miss him."

"Miss him? What do you mean?"

"He's gone back to his Stormcloak business - two days ago now," Delphine took the lead at the split and they pressed on, "I think Ulfric sent out the word from Windhelm."

"Oh."

It was all Aine could manage, confused at the intensity of her disappointment. Seamus was still looking at her and she pushed her thoughts to the back of her head. That was the last thing in the world she wanted to discuss with him and she wasn't about to let herself get cornered now. She berated herself for feeling so cheated at missing Ralof and her rational side kept repeating that he had his own tasks, just as she did, and she owed Delphine and this job her full attention.

"How much further?"

"Not long now. Kynesgrove overlooks the White River, this here, and the dragon burial is in the hills above the village."

"Lovely. Can't imagine why people don't visit the burials more often, can you, Anni?"

"Down, Seamus, you'll have the chance to dispel some of that soon."

He still watched her with that annoying knowing and it was a relief to reach Kynesgrove… kind of. The place bustled, its few volunteer guards and soldiers wide-eyed and terrified. Delphine dropped from her horse and grabbed at the arm of the closest man.

"What is it?"

"Dragons, lady, up there. What are we-"

"Get your people inside and prepare anyone who can shoot a bow. We'll head up there. Be ready."

The soldier seemed relieved to have someone tell him what to do and he rushed away. Delphine waved for them to follow and they both slid from their mounts and bolted after her. Another guard had grabbed the reins of the horses and led them to the stables where the other mounts were gathered. But that was the least of their concerns.

The path was steep and winding, and trees and bushes grew in impossible fashions amongst the rocks. As they got closer, Aine could hear an odd rumbling that soon broke up into what sounded like words. She let out a breath and stopped rather suddenly. Seamus took her arm and Delphine glanced over her shoulder. Aine shook her head before either of them could speak and put one finger to her lips. She waved to the protection of a clutch of rocks and they hunkered down. The words sounded like her Shouts and she hated the fact that there were two separate voices, not just one.

Delphine gripped her arm and then pointed up into the air. There, hovering about seventy-five to one hundred feet off the ground, was a dragon. Aine felt Seamus tighten beside her and fear rippled through her. It was the same dragon that attacked Helgen and she heard Farengar's words about the darker dragons being more difficult with absolute clarity. She swore roundly in her head, but lifted herself enough to see what the beast was doing.

There was another dragon in the center of a crater just ahead and they continued 'speaking' back and forth. Currents of power and air were transferring from the one in the air to the one on the ground, and Aine had a sudden idea. She ducked back beside them and they put their heads together.

"It's the one on the ground that'll pose a problem. Ignore the one in the air, it's just bringing it to life. I think if we attack now, interrupt the spell, it'll work in our favor. Come on, we need to act... _now_."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I know, I'm a week behind! So sorry about that, it's been a bit hectic and mentally _exhausting_ here. But that doesn't matter to you guys. Here's the next installment, hope you enjoy, and I'll try to get back on track next week! Take care and all the best!

* * *

She readied her bow and was rolling away from the boulders before either of them could respond. She darted forward, letting an arrow fly at the dragon's head. Seamus and Delphine both charged past her and she found that her surmise had been correct. The dragon up above swept away from them and the one on the ground roared in pain and rage. It spread its wings and Aine reacted. She Shouted and the burst of energy knocked the dragon back, stunning it. Seamus and Delphine both took advantage and began attacking the beast. The fight that followed was intense and - honestly - terrifying.

Aine did her best to keep the thing grounded, but the Shouts sapped her strength and she depended on Seamus and Delphine's efforts. As they began besting the dragon, the odd voice spoke again and Aine could feel that other dragon soaring over them. Its words rumbled through her, she felt them in her very being, but it didn't attack. Even when the other was finally dispatched. Instead, it swooped over another time and then departed over the mountain range. The downed dragon began burning brightly and Aine remained still as the thing's soul seeped into her. It was similar to the first, the power thrummed, but it was subdued as though her body was getting used to this extraordinary occurrence.

"So, it's true. You really are the Dragonborn."

Seamus was staring at her in shock, but Delphine was quietly pleased. She gave Aine a slight bow and cleaned her blade before slipping it back into its scabbard.

"I know that I can absorb them, that it's the prophecy fulfilled, and all of that; but please, I don't like that title just yet. I'm Aine, just Aine."

"Or Anni, or little inferno. I was right on point with that one, huh?"

Delphine ignored Seamus and she finally gave Aine a nod. She gestured to the path and started forward.

"Fair enough, Aine, let's get back to the inn and we can speak there."

They went back to the town where the townspeople and guards cheered in absolute relief. The tavern door stood open and the kegs must have been tapped the instant that second dragon flew off. Mugs were being passed around and some of the women wept in happiness. Children ran about, relishing an unexpected freedom, and Delphine had to physically force her way through the press. They reached the stables even with some of the townspeople following and demanding that they stay and celebrate, but they disentangled themselves and gathered their mounts. The people cheered them as they started out of town and Aine allowed herself to feel some of their joy.

"Here, Anni, hold this for me, would you?"

Aine, already sitting in Lettie's saddle, glanced down at him. Seamus had managed to lift a mug of beer from one of the locals and he held it out to her. She sighed and held it for him while he clambered onto Tal. She rewarded herself with a sip and found that it was surprisingly fine for a small tavern. Seamus clucked his tongue at her and took it back.

"Just because you've lost your sticky fingers doesn't mean that you can take advantage of mine."

"Sticky fingers?"

Aine smiled at Delphine's disgusted tone and severe green eyes.

"The beauty and frustration of a prophecy, Delphine, is that you can't pick your heroes. If my past is a problem, I'm afraid it's going to be _your_ problem."

Delphine pressed her lips together and glanced between the two of them. Seamus was absorbed in the beer and Aine's gaze was direct and steady. This was an argument the Blade wouldn't win.

"I suppose you did what you had to to survive."

Aine exchanged a glance with Seamus, giving him the smallest shake of her head when his pale eyes lit with mischief. He had been involved with thievery and mercenary work since he left home at fourteen, but he hadn't needed to resort to it. His family was wealthy and rather highly esteemed in Daggerfall, but his childhood had been miserable. Seamus was the middle son of three and his parents, whose marriage had been one of convenience and opportunity, were more invested in the heir and the youngest. There was nothing left for Seamus and he let resentment rule him, turning into the most impossible young man he could manage. The skooma addiction came later, after he had left home and found Solitude, Aine, Meara, and Percival; and Aine knew there were some pretty dark, very damaging secrets that Seamus buried in his heart that had proceeded to eat at him.

As for her…

She supposed she had had a choice, but apart from living on the streets, perfecting her pick pocketing ability and the skill to lift anything from a trinket box to a bolt of silk undetected from the local shops quickly became a game to her and she relished her talent. She had never sold herself; in fact that was her bottom line. If had come down to prostitution or becoming a decent little shop girl, she knew that the shop would be her fall-back. She even had a few proprietors that had expressed interest, but her talents were salable and she exploited those that needed them. Yes, she had had a choice and she made it; Delphine didn't need to know that right now.

"Something like that."

Delphine didn't press the issue and they continued to Riverwood. The weather stayed fine enough and they reached the town in time for supper at the inn. Orgnar was very busy behind the bar and his face brightened when he saw Delphine. Aine and Seamus ducked away into Aine's room to drop their things. Seamus wrangled two ales from Orgnar when they went back to the main room and Delphine motioned to Aine when another flood of locals came through the door. They slipped after her and gathered in the basement room.

"All right, you said you had questions, but let me tell you my history first and then we can continue from there," The Blade didn't wait for an agreement, "As I said, I am a Blade, sworn to protect the Dragonborn from whatever threatens. I fought in the Great War and afterward was stationed in Cyrodiil for a time. Throughout the war and while I was in Cyrodiil, we made moves against the Thalmor, numerous moves, and the price on my head would leave a man comfortable for at least two lifetimes. Not that this should give you any ideas. Anyway, I transferred here to Skyrim to continue my work against these thugs and the rarity of Blades these days, as well as the guise of a simple innkeeper, have kept me well-concealed. Now, however, with the emergence of a true Dragonborn, that may be coming to an end. I have a task for you, Aine. It's dangerous, but could be crucial. Make as many comments as you like about my prejudice against the Thalmor, I'm starting to think that they might be the ones behind the dragons' reemergence. There's a reception being held by the Thalmor ambassador Elenwen in Solitude. I want you to attend and sneak about - which I am learning will not be a stretch for you - and see if there is any evidence of my suspicions. I have a contact in Solitude that is connected with Elenwen and he can go into the details that I cannot."

Aine forced her hands to relax their painful clench. She wasn't ready for Solitude, she just wasn't.

"It has to be Solitude," She muttered and raked her hand through her hair. Seamus looked at her in a pitying fashion and she ignored it, her heart thudding painfully, "Damn. Fine, Delphine, who is it that I'm meeting? Though I should warn you that I'm not a fashionable type. This may all fall apart before it even begins."

Delphine waved a dismissive hand. She shuffled through her pages and pulled out a substantial stack.

"My contact's name is Malborn. He's a spy for the Blades and happens to be a servant of Elenwen. He'll be hanging out at the Winking Skeever for you and since you can't attend the reception fully armed, he'll smuggle in whatever you need," Delphine leveled her eyes on Aine, "Unless it's absolutely necessary, avoid bloodshed, particularly during the reception. There's no need to make this a nationally diplomatic disaster before it has to be. Once you have managed to gain entrance to Elenwen's compound, I'll trust to your judgement. A word of warning, her guards won't be merciful."

"You aren't coming?"

"I'll meet you at Katla's Farm, she runs the stables outside of Solitude. I'll have your invitation and an outfit that'll work with the gathered nobility, unless you'd rather shop for one yourself?"

Aine shook her head.

"I know Katla's and I'm sure whatever you find will be perfect. Like I said, I'm not one for this sort of thing. I just - damn, I don't feel like dealing with Solitude."

"Is there something I should be concerned with?"

"No, no, not really. I just have some… lousy memories I'd rather not deal with."

"And I'm sure you aren't the only one. Please, Drag-Aine, I need your help. And 'please' is not a word I bandy about very freely."

Aine smiled and lifted her mug of ale.

"I believe you. Tell me more about Malborn."

* * *

Aine muttered darkly under her breath as she went through Solitude's gates. Her body was tensed beyond belief and she absolutely detested this position she was in. It was early evening, the reception was just hours away, and all she could think about was that Solitude was utter hell and she'd rather be back in Helgen.

"Easy, Anni, it's not like you really had a choice."

She cast a black look up at Seamus and hardly registered the red eyes and fidgety fingers. He was impossible to shake.

"This is bullshit, Seamus, I never wanted to see Solitude again. Damn Percival and, by the gods! It has to be the damned Winking Skeever."

"Just slip in and find Malborn, don't make contact with anyone else, and you should be fine."

"Did I mention this is bullshit?"

Seamus laughed and Aine felt a bit better. The snow from the road was mixing with rain now and those on the streets walked by briskly, heads bent against the weather. Aine and Seamus slowly made their way to the Winking Skeever, the tavern-inn just inside the city walls and a regular watering-hole for the locals.

"You might have a few times. Trust me, I'll keep whoever's manning the bar busy and you and the Lady Blade's little henchman can get things sorted. It'll be okay."

He added the last more gently, probably remembering the way Aine had paced most of the night in the room at the Sleeping Giant after Delphine's request. He had never seen his friend so rattled and it kind of scared him. Aine had always been the ready one, the one that had a plan - no matter how crazy - the one that would never take no for an answer, and always looked for wiggle-room and a way out. But this had almost shut her down and her look of helpless dejection was less than encouraging.

Aine recognized his concern, indeed it was impossible to dismiss, but she could honestly - ruthlessly - say she didn't care. His almost-hero-worship of her abilities was not enough to keep her going this time and she had to draw on that passion for Percival's slow, painful demise to help.

They stepped through into the Winking Skeever, greeted by a chorus of voices from those already gathered, and Seamus pushed Aine into the shadows while he wandered to the bar, keeping his word and distracting the barkeep as he promised. It was an Imperial by the name of Dugan, a man they both knew well, and Aine was, once again, well pleased with her decision to keep Seamus on.

She studied her surroundings from the shadows that afforded at least some protection from recognition here. There was a handful of people she knew already scattered amongst the tables and she drew further back to avoid a clamor. It was the work of a few more moments before she spotted a reddish-brown haired Bosmer seated in a secluded corner, nursing a mug of beer. She slipped from her vantage-point, making sure her hood covered her red hair, and made her way to the Bosmer's seat. His dark eyes looked up at her when she reached him and she felt her temper flare when he looked unimpressed, even disgusted.

"This is really who Delphine sends? Gods have mercy."

"Nice to meet you, too, sunshine," Aine returned, realizing how much Seamus had been rubbing off on her; nicknames were his game, "Perhaps you'd like to storm-"

"Pipe down, will you?" Malborn reached up and tugged Aine's hand rather viciously, forcing her into the seat across from him, "There's too many ears to talk like that."

Aine pulled herself free and settled the hood over her head again, worried it would slip and show off who she was. Her eyes met Malborn's and she saw he was much younger than she expected. He looked near her own age, his dark blue eyes reminding her of Ralof, though his were nervous and on edge. His hair was rather wild and he kept raking one hand through it in a fashion that made her want to slap it back down.

"All right, then, how do you expect to do this? I mean, if we can't talk-"

"Don't be foolish. I was only…" Malborn trailed off when he caught the gleam in Aine's gaze, "Very funny. Delphine told you what's going on, yeah? Of course she has. So what do you want in the embassy? Better hand it over now, you won't have a chance later."

Aine was prepared for this. She had a rather bulky bundle and she handed it over to the Bosmer with a half-smile. The desire to tease helped with her hatred of the place and she chased the feeling for all it was worth.

"Are you positive you can handle it, sir? Wouldn't want to overburden you."

Malborn rolled his eyes and Aine was rather pleased to see it. She heard Seamus' boisterous voice at the bar and Dugan's distinct laugh.

"Let's get serious about this, Aine," He said, not rising to the bait and her name rolling easily from his tongue, "I'll get these things into the embassy for you and Delphine will hold the rest, if she hasn't already told you that. You probably know she'll be waiting at Katla's with your dress and invite. Once you're there, look for a moment to cause a distraction and I'll let you into the back. After that, you'll be on your own. I noticed you came in with a companion. I hope you both realize that he can't come with you?"

"We'll settle that," Aine answered firmly, worried about notice the longer she sat there, "Is that all?"

"Delphine is looking for evidence of Thalmor influence in these dragon attacks. I don't fully believe it, but they are not innocent in anything. If you find anything of notice, in anything else, take it. She'll welcome the intelligence and it may go a long way to assisting the… the organization in other ways. She sent word ahead with suspicions of your - past," Malborn leveled his gaze on her and she arched her brows, "Use it. The Thalmor don't let anything derail their campaign; return the favor."

He got to his feet, shouldering the bundle she gave him. She frowned up at him and spread her hands.

"You're much more familiar with me than I am with you. Is that fair?"

He actually allowed a smile, transforming his face into quite a handsome expression.

"That's my job, Aine. I'll see you at the embassy tonight."

* * *

"You gave Malborn what you needed? Good, I'll take the rest and keep it safe at the inn. Here's your invite and a dress. Katla agreed to let you use her house for changing. Go on, we'll wait for you here."

Aine had no choice but to gather up the outfit Delphine bought for her and make her way to the farmhouse. Katla was a quiet, very efficient Nord who had found her niche here at Solitude and she showed Aine a secluded room in which to change her clothes. There was a full-length mirror in one corner and she studied herself after she pulled the robe on. It was a rich, dark green drawing on the pale grey of her eyes and highlighting her freckles. The collar came up her neck about an inch or two and ended in a plunging V down her chest that was just on the verge of being immodest. She felt rather uncomfortable, revealing so much skin and she tugged a bit at the red and gold embroidered edges, trying to pull them a little closer. It was no use; the robe fit her snugly at the waist and fell down her legs in loose, graceful swaths of fabric. Dropping her hands and trying to forget her unease, she cocked her head at her reflection. She actually had to admit that she looked partly attractive and she loosed her dark red hair. It curled and cascaded over her too-slender shoulders and she combed her fingers rather roughly through it. She pulled at the sides of it, twisting locks together to keep it from her eyes and securing it at the back of her head. She stepped back and took in the whole image; it was passable at least and she folded her clothes into a neat bundle for Delphine. It felt odd, not wearing her armor after days of sleeping in it and the neckline made her feel so exposed, but she shrugged that away, leaving Katla's for Delphine and Seamus again.

They were loitering by the carriage and Seamus stared openly at her when she appeared. Delphine was much more practical, eyeing her with approval as she walked closer to them.

"Well, good to see that you can actually dress the part."

"Yeah, Anni, you look great."

She gave Seamus a smile.

"Thanks, I'll just be happy when this is over. Here, Delphine, the rest of my things."

Delphine accepted Aine's bundle and she shoved it into her pack before pulling out a furred cape with a hood. She shook it out and passed it to Aine.

"Here, this goes better than your other cloak and kind of completes the look," She said as Aine tossed it around her shoulders and secured it at her neck, eager to cover her exposed skin. The cape was short, extending just past her waist, but the furred hood was very warm against her neck. The Blade handed over a cream-colored parchment, rolled and tied with a red ribbon when she was set, "And here's your invitation. Remember-"

"I know, your contact was very precise and exact. There's little doubt what I have to do."

"Good. I'll meet you back in Riverwood. Don't miss your carriage."

Delphine motioned to the waiting carriage, but Aine turned to Seamus. He still very much approved of her get-up and he arched his brows. She stepped closer, mindful that her boots were rather out of place with the green robe.

"Be careful, Seamus," She said in an undertone and put one hand on his arm, lowering her voice to keep Delphine in the dark as much as possible, "She has her doubts and moments, but she's one of the good ones. Remember what I said about Markarth if things go south, huh?"

"And you, little inferno, remember your Nord friend. Anni, dear little Anni, you deserve some happiness, too. If he can give you that then…" Seamus spared one brief - very brief - glance at Delphine and bent quickly to kiss Aine's cheek. His hands had found her shoulders and he kept his mouth close to her ear, "Be happy, Anni, really. You can't keep beating yourself up over Meara, it's not fair to you. And if that Nord can fulfill that, you need to let him. Be careful."

Aine pulled his head close to return the kiss and then she turned abruptly to the carriage. The driver smiled down at her, his eyes quickening when he got a better look at her.

"Thalmor Embassy, please."

The driver gave her a reasonable sum and she climbed into the back, waving one last time at Seamus and Delphine before they disappeared around a bend. She sat back in the carriage and took a deep breath. The trip was short and the embassy well-lighted and busy with more late-arriving guests when they pulled up. Her heart was hammering and she took another breath as the man pulled at the reins, stopping the horses. She stepped down, accepting the hand from one of the men guarding the steps. It was unusual, having someone watch so closely and be so polite, but she didn't mind really.

"Good to see I won't be the only one coming in a little late tonight," A deep voice greeted her as she started up the steps. Aine turned to find a black-haired Redguard with ruddy cheeks and broad shoulders following behind her, "I hoped I wouldn't have to go in alone."

She remembered her manners and smiled at him.

"I'll have to return the sentiment," She extended one hand, "My name is - Faren."

"Razelan," He shook her hand warmly, seeming to miss her hesitation in giving her name - the middle, no use in creating a target, "Mind if I go in with you?"

"Not at all. What's your connection with Lady Elenwen, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Of course not. I have some connections in Hammerfell that Elenwen can't ignore. They may not be what they were, but they still hold some sway," Razelan lifted his heavy shoulders and ran one hand through his greying beard, "She'd rather not invite me at all; I tend to get a little deep in my cups, as the saying goes, but it would cost her more to leave me out completely. So, here I am."

The guards at the doors were there solely to check invitations and Razelan had to dig for his while Aine had hers ready. She waited for him, feeling for some reason that this man would be very useful here.

The embassy was decorated beautifully and voices sounded from every corner. Impeccably dressed guests milled about with drinks in hand and soft light made everything look even more attractive. She unfastened the cloak, trying to remind herself that a true delegate in this position would not be self-conscious about her robe. Razelan himself handed it to the man standing near the door.

"There, now," He said cheerfully, "I'm making a proper entrance."

This compliment from him didn't bother her at all. He was merely being friendly and older enough that both of them recognized how impossible any of _that_ would be. He escorted her, keeping by her elbow until a willowy, absolutely gorgeous Altmer approached. Razelan chose that moment to mysteriously disappear and Aine was left alone with Ambassador Elenwen, not that she minded this much either. She realized she didn't really like the idea of lying too much to the Redguard and she mentally shook the unfamiliar feeling away, and focused her attention on Elenwen.

Cool, unflappable grey eyes met hers and the Elf's golden skin took on a new, unmatched hue in this faint lamplight. She stood straight and unbending and Aine felt her nature taking hold; that nature that stiffened up at every slight indication that someone was trying to intimidate and best her.

"Lady Elenwen, I thank you for your generosity in hosting this reception. My name is Faren Kerr, a delegate to Windhelm."

It was Delphine's idea after learning Aine's familiarity with Ralof. The Blade had figured that Ralof would jump to acquiesce to whatever ploy that reached him, good or bad. And Aine could only hope that the Nord would be the first to hear of it.

"To Windhelm? We welcome your presence then, Lady Kerr. Perhaps you can give Jarl Ulfric news that we are not the fiends his people believe us to be."

Aine nodded her head.

"I will certainly tell him of your warm welcome, lady."

Elenwen was impossible to read, but she did nod her head and motioned with one hand. Aine took this as a true invitation and she slipped past the ambassador into the interior of the embassy. Malborn was behind an ornately carved bar, busy with guests, and she ignored him as completely as the rest of those gathered. Razelan was sitting on a stone bench under one window, speaking with an aged woman dripping with jewels. Aine had to remember why she was here; those jewels called to her so irresistibly, she had to work hard to shove it away.

The others were polite, but distant. Aine was an unknown, in more ways than they knew, and though some of the men paid her too much attention, she wasn't worth their trouble. She didn't mind. She paced the room, speaking when spoken to, intelligent enough about Windhelm to get by, and feeling Elenwen's intense focus when the Altmer entered the room. This Elf was no one's fool and Aine had to consider her next move _very_ carefully if she was to get anywhere here.

She paced the other side of the room, stopping by Malborn's bar to order a glass of the popular red wine. The Bosmer passed her a beautiful cut-crystal wine glass with deep red wine and she turned to lean against the bar as she enjoyed it. Razelan caught her gaze once more and she studied him as he spoke with the old lady.

 _I tend to get a little deep in my cups…_ His words came back to her and she turned to Malborn again.

"Colovian brandy, if you have it. Just one."

Malborn nodded and poured the brandy for her. It had been one of Percival's favorites and for all the grief he put her through, she had to admit the man had known his spirits. She wandered back to Razelan and waited until the old lady was distracted with another guest before she bent close. She handed the brandy over.

"I think you and I are on the same page, Sir Razelan. That being said, I wonder if I could ask a favor."

Razelan, his eyes solely on the brandy, gave a single nod.

"I think you could ask me about anything, Lady Feran."

Aine blinked and recovered. She was not off to a very good start if she couldn't remember the damn name she was going by tonight!

"Fantastic. Then I wonder if you could create something of a diversion for me? Just… maybe for the story's sake?"

"You got it, lady," Razelan downed the brandy in one pull, "One distraction coming up."

Aine thought for a brief moment that she had been a little rash, but then Razelan got to his feet, pinching a glass from a passing noble and ignoring the man's dark look. And he was a remarkable actor.

"Attention everyone! I have an announcement to make! I propose a toast to Elenwen, our mistress! I speak figuratively, of course. Nothing could be more unlikely that that someone would actually _want_ her in bed. Although, to be honest, most of you are already in bed with her! Again, figuratively speaking, of course!"

Aine had already ducked behind the bar when Razelan mentioned someone wanting the Altmer in their bed and she had to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Malborn unlocked the door and ushered her into the pantry off the kitchen, assuring the cook and her staff that everything was well. He closed the door behind them and the one ahead, leading further into the embassy, was still closed. The Bosmer was more nervous than ever.

"It'll be noticed if I'm gone for long," He acted quickly as he spoke, yanking the bundle of Aine's belongings from one of the shelves. He shoved them at her and then grabbed a couple of bottles from a cupboard, "That door leads into the kitchens. Remember whatever Delphine said about the guards. Good luck."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hello, hello! Late again, yes, but here I am. Thanks to everyone that is patiently sticking with me and once again, Skyrim is not mine... (deep sigh) and I can't tell you how much I want to just crawl into this world and disappear for a while. It'd be SO amazing... As long as I didn't have to face off with dragons because, let's be honest, I'd be a crispy critter in a matter of seconds. Take care!

* * *

He disappeared back into the kitchen and Razelan's voice, talking about avoiding angering the 'Thalmor overlords', was loud in spite of the two doors between them. Aine couldn't help another smile at his perfect diversion and then she got to business. She stripped the robe off and balled it into one corner of a cabinet, pulling on the light clothes and leather armor. Her bow was next and the quiver-full of arrows followed. She made sure her knives were well within reach and then opened the door.

A conversation greeted her and she dropped instantly into a crouch, already annoyed by her hair. It was two men speaking and she spotted the open door in the short hallway she entered. She eased forward and managed to get at least a partial view of the room through the crack between the door and its frame. The limited view let her know both men were close to the door and they spoke easily. Their conversation wasn't anything special; complaints about Elenwen who they called 'herself' which struck Aine as rather funny, and the dragons of course. The one closest to her suddenly moved and she drew sharply back, but he mentioned getting back to their rounds and her body tensed. Their footsteps began fading and she acted quickly.

She slipped around the door, saw they were both walking away from her, and she made a quick decision. There was a decorative half-wall that extended about a quarter of the way into the room from the door and she ducked around it and headed for the stairs that led up to the second floor. A landing broke up the staircase and she crouched close to the far wall to avoid detection just in case the two guards doubled back. There wasn't a sound from the upper floor and she tiptoed up the steps. She got to the top and froze again.

There was a man bent over a table ahead of her. She could now hear the soft rustling of paper and he was completely absorbed in his work. Her fingers dug into one of the pouches on her belt and she pulled loose the miniature slingshot and a small, burr-like pottery ball. They housed a fast-acting gas that put a man out for roughly a half-hour and she hoped it would be enough time. She slipped onto the upper floor, hearing the steps of the guards below. They didn't come up the stairs however, and she hugged the wall as she crept a little closer to the one in front of her. She saw that the hall teed here and she raged a furious debate with herself over the intelligence of using this gas _now_. Time ticked away from her though and she raised the slingshot.

The pottery ball smashed against the wall with a soft _clink_ that seemed entirely too loud, but there was no alarm from downstairs and the man slumped to the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief that he missed the table and started forward again. Most of the pottery had smashed into a fine dust that was hardly distinguishable from the normal dust that gathered and Aine quickly gathered the larger pieces that would raise eyebrows. The upstairs stayed silent and she investigated the room on the left first. It was a study of sorts and there was a reinforced door in one corner.

She trusted her instincts, which had always served her well, and opened this to find herself in the snow laden, _freezing_ , courtyard. Aine pulled her bow loose, certain that this would not be free from the guards. She stood on a raised bulwark of sorts and the gardens in the center were completely covered in white which glittered in the few torches that were lit. Shadows stretched long between these random beacons and she was pleased to see it. The railing on the inside edge was carved with the same ornateness of the rest of the embassy and the only downside to it was that it had an openness that didn't allow for much concealment.

Taking another breath, she pressed on, mindful of the fact that Elenwen had been _quite_ interested in her and would probably notice her missing for too long. There was a guard ahead that would be impossible to sneak around and she drew her bow, pressing her back to the outside wall. She took careful aim and fired. The arrow sank into the man's neck and he dropped. His armor was loud against the stone and she heard a murmur from the garden. Slinging her bow to her back, she hurried forward, vaulted the railing, and dropped into the thick, deeply shadowed bushes lining it. Thorns raked against her face, catching in her hair, and she forced herself to remain still when the footsteps came closer.

It sounded like there were at least two, maybe three, and she used the shadows to her advantage. She pulled her hair from the branches with hardly a rustle and pressed her back to the freezing stone, edging away from the voices that were talking rapidly in a language she couldn't understand. The alarm had deepened into anger and fear, and the steps became stealthy. She heard the whisper of blades being pulled from their sheaths and she cursed inwardly. It was a clumsy move to take care of that one and with the soldiers on high alert, it made her work twice as hard. She heard steps on the bulwark behind her and she froze, waiting for the man pass.

The edge of the garden bed she stood on came up on her rather suddenly, but the shadows were still thick and she kept herself against the wall. Ahead, she saw a door leading back into the embassy and, of course, it was guarded. There was movement on the bulwark beyond it and a third guard was patrolling the gardens themselves. She eased to a crouch and watched the man in the gardens. He was on edge, but he kept close to the far end of the courtyard and she turned her attention to the one in front of the door she wanted.

He was alert and it didn't appear that he would be moving anytime soon. She debated killing yet another and decided against it. Instead she went a different route and took out some of her trick rocks. It reminded her of that terrible night and she pushed it roughly to the back of her head and threw them across the courtyard. They landed at the base of the steps leading up to the bulwarks and, as she wanted, the guard in the courtyard hurried in that direction. The others could be heard heading that way as well and she darted forward into the row of bushes close to the door.

The man there was distracted by the other men as well and she had one of the darts Meara had made such great use of in one hand. She moved in a flash, knowing she wouldn't have much time. Her free hand went over the man's mouth and she plunged the dart into his neck. He struggled against her hold and she jerked him back into the bushes before he went completely slack. She hid his body while he drifted into unconsciousness and stole forward through the door while the others still searched the bulwarks.

Inside a second conversation was going on and there was a soldier standing at the far end of the room with his back to her. She could understand this one and she listened with half an ear as she slipped forward. The room was decent-sized and the voices came muffled from a room adjacent to her. The door was partially closed, a second door stood open to the soldier's left, and a staircase was to the right. She had another dart in her hand and she repeated her process, this time dragging the man toward that second room. The man's feet kicked against the floor, but the thick carpet muffled the sounds and the conversation didn't falter.

She managed to get him into the room just before he became a dead weight and then allowed her 'sticky fingers' to take over. The chest in the corner was unlocked and she sifted through its contents. There were a couple of leather-bound journals, a yellowed parchment with a note across the top saying 'Regarding the Dragon Investigation', and an iron band with a couple of keys. She lifted everything, tucking them away into her pack to study later. As she examined the rest of the room one of the men's voices raised.

"Etienne talked, didn't he? I told you he knew something about that old man you're looking for! I want my payment!"

The other's voice had dropped and she moved to a flight of rather rickety stairs leading down in an opposite corner of the room, knowing from experience that the dropped voice was never a good sign. The heavy door at the bottom was locked and she fished those keys out. The lock slid smoothly and the door made no sound when she opened it. The rooms ahead were lit rather weakly and she understood why a moment later.

She stood on a balcony that ran the perimeter of the room, overlooking a dungeon of sorts. Torches hung from sconces on the walls beneath her and the balcony was shadowed. Down below was a wooden desk set near a cell with a wall made of wood and bars. The wooden wall stood only three or four feet high and thick iron bars ran into the floor of the balcony opposite her. She started forward and then caught movement below and stopped. A female soldier appeared and unlocked the door of the cell. Aine drew back into the shadows and watched.

"Stop, please," A man's weak voice sounded and the words were cut short with a gasp of pain. Aine felt her temper flair even though she couldn't see exactly what the woman had done to him, "Don't you think I - I'd have… have talked if I knew - anything?"

"Shut up, you know the rules," The woman's voice was cold and hard, and the man groaned with pain. More steps came close and Aine saw a man cross the room and seat himself at the desk, "Master Rulindil asks the questions here."

The man pulled his chair up properly and rested his elbows on the desk.

"Let's begin again."

His voice was colder than the woman's and Aine moved before she quite realized what she was going to do. She hated the heavy-handed tactics and now even more so after what happened with Meara…

The steps down were even more deeply shadowed and she tiptoed to the floor below as the man protested his ignorance once again and the sadist chastised his stubbornness. There was the sound of rattling chains and the man screamed, sending a cascade of goosebumps down Aine's back.

"A-all right, all right… stop… please," The man's voice was broken in a rough cough and then went on weakly, "There's an old - old man… in Riften. I don't kn-know if he's… this Esbern you're looking for… He's a crazy old man… That's all I know."

The chains sounded a second time and the man screamed again. Aine reacted.

She knocked an arrow and took aim at the man at the desk. The arrow disappeared into his eye and the soldier whirled to face her, only to take a knife to the neck. She collapsed and went still. Aine hurried forward and fished through the dead woman's pockets until she came up with a key. The man stared at her in utter disbelief and she felt a bit uncomfortable at the tears that shimmered in his eyes. He looked wan and thin, his brown hair lank against his skull, and his eyes were sunken. She unlocked the chains around his wrists and caught him when he sagged forward. He pushed from her and looked rather embarrassed.

"Who're you?"

"There's no time," Aine said briskly and moved out of the cell to search the man at the desk. She lifted a bag of coins, a very fine knife, and another key before she searched the small chest near him. There was another leather journal here and she tucked that away as well, "I came for evidence that apparently doesn't exist and I think it's time I got the hell out of here."

"Through there," The man nodded to a nook across from his cell, leaning against the door frame, "There's a tunnel that leads to Reeking Cove, a way out."

"Sounds lovely. Locked of course, I'm sure?"

Before the man could answer, the door up above slammed open. She drew back sharply, yanking her bow free. The man had already retreated to the nook he had indicated and a voice rang out.

"All right, spy, give yourself up. We have your accomplice already."

Aine felt her heart give a lurch when she spotted Malborn, held against one of the three soldiers that stormed in, a blade to his throat. She knocked an arrow, retreating to the nook.

"Let him go."

"No, don't," Malborn managed, "I'm not worth it. Get out of here."

"One more step and he dies."

Aine only hesitated for a fraction. She let the arrow fly, nailing the one holding Malborn, and stringing another. This one narrowly missed the guard that had spoken and she barely registered Malborn fighting with the third. She bolted for the stairs to help him and threw herself into the fray, her little axe in hand. Her temper worked in her favor, but even as she cut down one of them, she heard Malborn grunt in pain. She whirled and flung a knife at the remaining soldier. The Bosmer was on the ground, bleeding badly from an ugly wound in his chest. She dropped beside him and worked quickly, folding his shirt up to press firmly against the torrent of blood. He let out a gasp and gripped her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Stop," He whispered, "Get - get out of here… Aine. There will - will be… more. Go."

His voice grew weaker as he spoke and Aine put the fingers of one hand against his lips.

"Stop talking, Malborn. Save your strength; I'm getting you out of here."

He shook his head against the floor and closed his eyes for a long moment.

"No, no, you're… not. Go. And tell… Delphine I - tell her I…"

Aine opened her mouth to argue with him and then heard more footsteps and angry voices start her way. She muttered a string of curses and Malborn pushed her hands away. She dug into her belt and pulled out more of her tricks.

"Use these," She said quickly, "They cause - they'll start a fire and a lot of confusion. And I'll tell Delphine. Thank you for your help, Malborn. You won't be forgotten."

" _Go._ "

All the urgency in the world was in that little word and Aine pressed the items into his hands, gave him a nod, and fled back down the steps. The other man was waiting very impatiently for her and she unlocked the heavy wood and iron grate in the ground. He jumped down ahead of her and as she swung the grate back down, the explosion from her little tricks sent a shock wave through the dungeon. The grate slipped from her fingers and she let her body fall back, afraid the damn thing would hit her in the head. The man caught her shoulders and she let out a breath, her heart aching.

"Shit," She muttered, "What the hell was that worth?"

"Who are you?'

Aine pulled away from him and even in the dim light of the tunnel, she caught the bloodstains on her fingerless gloves and the exposed skin. She dropped them to her sides before he could see her start to shake and met the gleam of his gaze.

"My name is Aine and I was looking for - for some information on the reemergence of the dragons. It was a damned disaster, but at least you got out of it, right?"

"I can't complain," He gave her a tired smile that showed her he had probably been a very handsome man before he was caught up by the Thalmor, "My name is Etienne and I'm ready to put a lot of distance between myself and these bastards."

Aine gave him a nod and led the way through the cavern, the cold seeping and biting at them. The light grew brighter as they wound through and ahead, after a surprisingly short walk, they could see the gleam of moon and starlight in the cavern entrance. But of course, there was another obstacle. The path dropped and Aine caught the musty, rather rancid air of something terrifyingly familiar. She grabbed Etienne's arm before he could move forward again.

"No, not yet," She whispered and then a roar interrupted her.

Etienne cursed roundly, trying frantically to break her hold, but Aine would not be moved. She tightened her hold, grabbing him with her free hand too, and whispering for him to calm down. The movement of the frost troll was clear below them, but she knew that the thing had no idea where they were and she had something of a plan.

"Damn it, let go!"

She clapped her hand over his mouth and crouched, yanking him down beside her.

"Shut up and listen!" She hissed and he finally stilled, "It doesn't know we're up here and it can't reach us. I have an idea, now listen."

"What the hell-"

"You really can't be so stupid as to think I'd come into the Thalmor Embassy without a few tricks up my sleeve. Follow my lead and, for the gods' sake, don't panic."

She waited until he at least gave her a nod and then pulled out more of the knock-out gas. Etienne grabbed at her arm when she started to move close to the ledge and she shook her head. Carefully, so carefully, she peered over the edge, not entirely sure she believed her words to him about the troll being unable to climb up. The beast was hunched just below her and she heard the awful crunch of bone. She held three of her little tricks and she could only hope with everything she had that it would be enough as she dropped them. The troll let out a grunt of surprise and she drew back when the gas floated upward. She pulled Etienne away from it and waited. There was a long moment of absolutely nothing and then a _whump_ as the troll's body hit the ground.

"Now."

She yanked at Etienne and they dropped below and ran for the cavern opening. Even as they escaped the foul cavern, they could hear the thing grunt again and then a muffled roar. Etienne let out another curse, but there were no pursuing steps and they didn't stop running until they were at least a half-mile away. They finally slowed and took refuge in a copse of trees and bushes. Etienne stood, breathing deeply in the cold air, and Aine bent to scoop up handfuls of snow. She rubbed it between her palms, desperate to get Malborn's blood off of her.

"Thanks, Aine, really. They would have killed me."

"I do what I can," She spread her recently cleaned hands, "What are you going to do now, if I can ask that?"

"Get to Riften and lay low. Stupid after this, no need to tell me that, but it's all I know," He lifted his shoulders at her confused look, "I was caught just outside Riften, near the Goldenglow estate after a - a botched job, you could say. These bastards seemed to think I had some inside information on a man by the name of Esbern, but… well you never can tell, can you?"

Aine gave him a slow nod, knowing this man was a kindred spirit and at the same time not quite ready to get into details on that front right now. He abruptly changed the subject.

"And what about you? I wouldn't mind traveling together if we could. You're a good sort."

"Sorry, I'm afraid I'm heading south to Riverwood. But good luck, Etienne. And take care."

The man gave her another charming smile and a rather jaunty bow before he disappeared into the night.

* * *

Aine took the carriage to Whiterun, Lettie following along loyally. Like most horses, she knew she was heading home and pranced alongside the carriage like she was a filly again. The weather was lousy, rain mixed with snow, and colder than ever; and the coachman talked a bit about the fire that broke out at the Thalmor Embassy. Aine humored him for a while, curious about how the Thalmor were dealing with this. The story had circulated that the fire started during the party when a careless servant who was sent to fetch lamp oil, tripped and fell against a hearth. The fire had spread quickly, killing the unfortunate sod, and destroying a good portion of the embassy before it was finally under control. Aine knew that the 'poor sod' had to mean Malborn and she stopped quizzing the coachman who got the idea after a handful of unacknowledged comments.

Whiterun was quiet and calm the night they arrived, and Aine decided not to linger. She settled onto Lettie and didn't have to do much to encourage her. Night deepened rather quickly and the darkness was more complete thanks to the heavy cloud cover. The roads were empty and though Lettie perked her ears a few times, they made it to Riverwood unmolested. Apart from the patrolling guards, the village was sleeping and Aine gave in to Lettie's urging. She settled the horse in Gerdur and Hod's stables and trudged back to the inn. Her thoughts still lingered on Malborn's last moments and she dreaded having to tell Delphine.

She opened the inn door as quietly as she could, but as soon as she stepped inside, someone flew to her. One hand dropped to her belt and then Delphine hissed.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?"

Aine blinked and relaxed her hold on the knife hilt. She shook off the Blade's grip and frowned.

"What are you talking about, Delphine? What did I-"

"Your man, Seamus. Why didn't you tell me about the skooma?"

Delphine's eyes flashed angrily and she folded her arms tightly over her chest. Aine forgot about Malborn and straightened her shoulders. She glanced about the empty front room and dropped her voice a little.

"Where is he? Did he take off or-"

"No, he refused to leave and I couldn't let the other guests see him like that. He's in your room and gods know what he's done to the furniture."

Aine's temper heated, but she hurried around the Blade without snapping at her. She slipped into her room and blinked in the dim light. Seamus was curled into a ball on her bed and she moved closer. His face was sweaty and flushed, and she could smell the sick in the room; registering the chamber pot with something like smug approval, if only because of Delphine's snide comment. She sat on the edge of the bed and he jerked a bit when he looked at her.

"Seamus," She said softly and shook her head, "How-"

"I need some, Anni. I - I can't do this again. I-"

He broke off abruptly and grabbed the chamber pot. She pressed her hand to his shoulder and waited until he was finished. The pot almost slipped from his hands and she put it back down on the floor to avoid any accidents. Seamus fell weakly against the pillows and looked up at her through feverish eyes.

"You know I won't help you," She said gently and brushed his hair from his forehead, "How long has it been?"

"Started - started yesterday afternoon," His voice was a whisper and he shook his head, reaching up to loop her wrist with a hand that was hot and dry, "I can't, I just can't."

"You've come this far, Seamus, I'm not going out to get any for you, and you agreed to-"

"Lousy friend," He muttered and closed his eyes, keeping her hand in his. His lips twitched a bit and she let out a soft, relieved, sigh. He would be just fine, "Stay with me, Anni. Our Lady Blade is one shit nurse."

"I will. Just try to sleep."

He nodded and burrowed his head into the pillow. Aine remained where she was until his grip on her wrist eased. She slipped away and settled into the chair, leaning her head against the wardrobe as Seamus had done. She had half-expected Delphine to follow her in, but the room stayed quiet and she dozed fitfully for a few hours, waking to help when Seamus got sick again. These became less and less frequent as time wore on and noises in the front room woke her early in the morning. Seamus slept peacefully now, much to her relief, and she winced at the twinge in her neck from sleeping against the wardrobe. She got silently to her feet, gathering up the chamber pot to empty it.

Orgnar was opening up and he nodded to her as she went outside. She had to break the ice in one of the troughs to clean out the pot and Delphine appeared behind the bar when she came back into the inn. The Blade watched her go without a word, but Aine heard her footsteps approach a moment later. She grabbed her little pack with the journals and met her at the doorway, one finger to her lips. She ushered Delphine away from the room, closing the door behind them.

"Not here," She said quietly, "He's sleeping soundly and it's what he needs."

Delphine turned and led the way to her room. They secured themselves in the basement and the Blade arched her brows, her expression cool.

"Don't spring things on me like that, Aine, I don't care for it. Leaving me with an addict… you should have known better."

Aine's temper flared and she worked hard to keep from snapping at the Blade. She put her pack down on the table with more force than necessary and yanked out the journals, slamming them against the wooden surface.

"Malborn is dead, killed helping me escape after a shitty assignment. Not a damn thing to support your suspicions, Delphine. So please, don't lecture me on leaving you with an addict when you left me sadistic murderers."

"You knew what you were getting yourself into," Delphine had pulled the journals to her and she spoke in a distracted voice, "There's no comparison."

"What the hell choice did I have?" Aine spread her arms and then clenched her hands into fists when the Blade seemed to shrug away the news of her man's death, "And that's it? Nothing for Malborn?"

"Malborn also knew, Aine. He was a volunteer here and knew the risks."

"You're something of a bitch, Delphine, you know that?"

"I certainly do," This finally made the Blade look up at her and she actually allowed a small smile, "I've had to be. It's either develop a very thick skin or be destroyed completely. I didn't want to be destroyed."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Hello, hello! Here's the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy. Take care and have a great week!

* * *

Aine took a breath and slowly released it, feeling some of her anger dispel as she recognized the intelligence of Delphine's words. She stepped forward and pressed her hands to the tabletop. The Blade had gone back to the journals and she flipped through the pages with absorption.

"Understood, I guess. And I had no idea Seamus was cutting himself off so soon."

Delphine nodded her head and then looked up a moment later. She extended the single yellowed parchment.

"Did you have a chance to look these over?"

"No, I just grabbed them because they seemed important," Aine took the parchment which was evenly lined with handsome handwriting, "There really wasn't much time for anything. Elenwen seemed suspicious of me from the first."

"She's a paranoid woman; that doesn't surprise me. Read that."

Aine held it with both hands and read the letter.

 _First Emissary Elenwen,_

 _We anticipate a breakthrough in our efforts to uncover the party or parties behind the dragon resurrection phenomenon. An informant has identified a possible lead, whom we have brought back to the embassy for a full interrogation. The subject is obstinate, but by all indications is holding back the information we seek. I have authorized Intermediate Manual Uncoiling - I do not expect more will be necessary, unless you feel time presses._

 _I know you prefer to be present for the final questioning; I will inform you immediately when the subject is fully receptive. Two days to tell the tale._

 _In the meantime, if you wish to audit our technique, your expertise is welcome, as always. I have placed the prisoner in the cell closest to your office stairs, for your convenience._

 _-Rulindil, 3rd. Em._

She looked up at Delphine to find that the Blade was already watching her. Putting the letter back on the table, she tapped her finger against it.

"I saved this man. His name is Etienne, but I had no idea what this letter said. He was being tortured when I found him and they were wanting to know the whereabouts of a man named Esbern. Etienne told me he was headed back to Riften where he was picked up in the first place; and he told the Thalmor that that was where he had heard of a man hiding out who matched this Esbern's description."

"So the Thalmor know this?"

"They did for a few minutes, at least," Aine shrugged at Delphine's frown, "I killed the only two who heard it, but Etienne is already long-gone."

Delphine gave a single nod and went back to the journals. She had propped one open with a paperweight and she passed a second to Aine. She didn't say anything, just dropped her gaze back to hers and Aine began reading once more.

 _Status: Fugitive (Capture Only), Highest Priority, Emissary Level Approval_

 _Description: Male, Nord, late 70s_

 _Background: Esbern was one of the Blades loremasters prior to the First War Against the Empire. He was not a field agent, but is believed to have been behind some of the most damaging operations carried out by the Blades during the pre-war years, including the Falinesti Incident and the breach of the Blue River Prison. His file had remained dormant for many years, an inexcusable error on the part of my predecessor (who has been called to Alinor for punishment and reeducation), in the erroneous belief that he was unlikely to pose a threat due to his advanced age and lack of field experience. A salutary reminder to all operational levels that no Blades agent should be considered low priority for any reason. All are to be found and justice exacted upon them._

 _Operational Notes: As we are still in the dark as to the cause and meaning of the return of the dragons, I have made capturing Esbern our top priority, as he is known to be one of the experts in the dragonlore of the Blades. Regrettably, we have yet to match their expertise on the subject of dragons, which was derived from their Akaviri origins and is still far superior to our own (which remains largely theoretical). The archives of Cloud Ruler Temple, which is believed to have been the primary repository of the oldest Blades lore, were largely destroyed during the siege, and although great effort has been made to reconstruct what was lost, it now appears that most of the records related to the dragons were either removed or destroyed prior to our attack. Thus Esbern remains our best opportunity to learn how and why the dragons have returned. It cannot be ruled out that the Blades themselves are somehow connected to the dragons' return._

 _We have recently obtained solid information that Esbern is still alive and hiding somewhere in Riften. Interrogation of a possible eyewitness is on-going. We must proceed carefully to avoid Esbern becoming alerted to his danger. If he is indeed in Riften, he must not be given an opportunity to flee._

"Let me guess, friend of yours?" Aine quizzed when she finished.

"I know Esbern very well. That dossier is absolutely true and I had heard rumors that he was holed up in the Ratway in Riften a few years ago," Delphine nudged the other dossier at her and went on, "He's… a bit eccentric and I wasn't ever sure that it was true. Esbern's brilliant, but like a lot of brilliant people, he has an enormous capacity for paranoia. I thought the rumors were his own doing and he was probably about as far from Riften as possible. The Thalmor do not take unnecessary chances and if they believe Esbern's in Riften, then they'll head to Riften. I know what you said," She held up one hand when Aine's lips parted to argue her point of killing the only two that knew, "This dossier would have been shared with Elenwen's trusted circle and you can bet that she will send men to Riften just to cover their bases. There would be no mention of it here otherwise."

Aine glanced down at the table and forced her curiousity away when she caught Ulfric's name on the other open dossier. She also noted that Delphine's free hand was covering the third and she thought she knew why. Putting it aside for the moment, she met the Blade's gaze.

"So your plan is for me to race the Thalmor to Riften?"

"Elenwen will not waste time and neither should we. Was anything done in Solitude that may hold up their response?"

"Half the embassy burned when Etienne and I escaped. Malborn used some of my… methods to buy us time."

Delphine's look of grieved approval soothed some of Aine's anger over her rather detached response to his death. She pushed her hand to the tabletop.

"He was a good man and will be greatly missed. But that works perfectly for us. Elenwen will send her men, no mistake about that, but the chaos there should buy us our own time here. If you leave for Riften right away, you should be well ahead of them."

"Going to Riften? That's a shitty idea."

Aine turned at Seamus' voice and saw him leaning rather heavily against the door frame. He was still very pale, but his eyes were clearer and he gave her a slow smile when she approached.

"You shouldn't be up," She answered in a half-hearted scold, slinging his arm around her shoulder and helping him over to the big chest. She eased him down to it and watched rather severely as he leaned against the wall behind him, "Really, Seamus-"

"I'm fine, Anni, the worst is over. And why the hell are we talking about going to Riften?"

"I really don't think you should be involved with this anymore, Hady, given your history. Your help in Kynesgrove was very appreciated, but it'd be best if we end this here."

Aine rolled her eyes and turned to face the Blade, hearing Seamus' weak laughter.

"These are my tasks, Delphine, and you should know by now I'm not going to be the least bit swayed by Seamus. I decided to leave the choice to him whether or not he wants to follow me and this will be the same, as far as I'm concerned," She forced her voice to stay calm and even, though she felt her temper start to build, "He knows I hate his usage and you really don't have anything to fear about me becoming a slave to it. Leave Seamus to his own devices."

Delphine looked ready to argue and then changed her mind.

"I guess there's no way I can prevent this, not with both of you against me. I leave it in your hands then, Aine. Now, like I said, Esbern is paranoid and I don't know anymore than the fact that he was last rumored in Riften. The one thing I can tell you that the Thalmor do not know, is that a man by the name of Brynjolf may be able to give you more information."

"Brynjolf? Really?" Seamus started forward and his face went even paler. He sat back and waved at Aine's concerned look, "If he's kicking around, you're really going to ask him?"

Delphine glanced at Seamus.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't depend on him?"

"He's - well, you could say he's one of the masters of the 'sticky fingers' gang. I didn't think you'd be willing to stoop to the level of enlisting that rank and file."

"You are still here, aren't you?"

"Enough, both of you," Aine could hear the exasperation in her own voice and wondered how the hell she ended up in the position of mother hen, "What else, Delphine?"

"Esbern likely won't trust you if you do find him. Mention me and ask him if he remembers where he was on the thirtieth of Frostfall. He'll know what that means."

Aine exchanged a quick glance with Seamus.

"The thirtieth of Frostfall?"

Delphine nodded.

"What the hell does-"

"Not now, Seamus. It doesn't matter, just so long as it works with him," She hadn't looked away from Delphine, "If I do find him, what then? Back here?"

"Yes, if you find him," The Blade cocked her head and studied Aine rather closely, "But I don't doubt you, Aine. Really, I'm learning that's a damned foolish notion."

* * *

"About as cheerful as ever," Seamus observed drily as they slid from the mounts at the Riften stables.

The walled village was perched on a little rise at the base of an eastern mountain range. Clouds hung heavy in the late afternoon sky and made everything seem even more grey and gloomy. They started up the hill to the gate and Aine looked up at Seamus.

"You okay?"

He opened his mouth to give her one of his immediate responses and stopped when she leveled her gaze on him. Lifting his shoulders almost sheepishly, he tipped his head one way and then the other.

"Sure, you're here with me. I won't fall into the usual traps, right?"

She gave him a smile and nudged him with an elbow.

"You could do it on your own, sooner or later you'll have to, but it's great that you've done this, Seamus. And you're right, I'll keep an eye out for the traps."

If Aine was being honest with herself, this was something she had seen before. Seamus had, on several occasions, broken his habit and then found himself back on skooma within weeks, and Aine was lying if she claimed this hadn't crossed her mind at least once. But there was a look in his eyes this time that made her believe it would stick. He was more determined than ever and she held out hope it was for good.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the guard at the door stood forward. His armor was a bit worn, but he appeared official enough. His dark eyes went over both of them and he straightened his shoulders with a sudden interest that didn't sit well with Aine.

"Apologies, but I'm afraid I have to ask you for a visitors' tax to get into the city."

Aine brushed Seamus' arm with her fingers and arched her brows at the man.

"Tax? What are you talking about?"

"For entering the city, yes, lady."

"This is obviously a shake-down," Seamus spoke rather loudly, catching the subtle movement of Aine's fingers and well-aware of what it meant, "You must be an idiot of rare caliber."

Aine moved in a blur. She twisted the man's arm behind his back and held a blade to his throat. His eyes bugged and he was entirely caught.

"Like I said."

Seamus waved his hand at Aine with another shrug.

"Your move, sir," She said pleasantly, making sure he felt the bite of her blade, "What do you say?"

"I - I was a little h-hasty. Go on in."

"Thanks."

Aine released him so abruptly he stumbled forward a bit and had to collect himself for a second before he remembered the gates were locked. He opened them and Aine and Seamus stepped into the village. Half-timbered buildings lined both sides of the cobbled street and a hum of voices from the village center greeted them.

Riften was partially constructed over Lake Honrich, a large rather shallow lake perfect for fishing, and a portion of this rested under the pier of the village center. Sellers hawked their wares, the Bee and Barb turned a good profit as the only inn; but the town had been ruled by the Thieves Guild for years and its current populace of miscreants and criminals was a great testament to this. Maven Black-Briar was the rather unofficial jarl of the village, owner of the Black-Briar Meadery which employed a very large portion of Riften's locals; and those the Guild did not intimidate, she did. It was rumored she had tied herself to the Guild some time ago, but it was hard in a place like Riften to know what was truth and what was merely conjecture.

"So, any idea where Brynjolf will be?"

"In the center, I would think," Seamus answered, leading the way, "If not there, probably the inn. I just hope he's not in the Flagon."

Aine started to ask him what he meant when there was a sudden outbreak of noise from the collection of stands in the center.

A Dunmer jumped to his feet and whirled on a small Breton girl hunkering behind a stack of crates. He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her to her feet, knocking a few of the crates over and yelling at her about pick pocketing. He went into great detail about what he did to unsuccessful lowlifes like her and Aine heard something clink nearby. She turned her attention from the commotion and saw a gleam of silver on the ground. Bending swiftly, she scooped up a beautifully ornate ring and held it in her palm.

The Breton was shoved back into the crates and her face flamed. The Dunmer had turned away and Aine stepped forward, catching the Breton's wide gaze. She shook her head and her eyes flashed to the Dunmer's retreating back.

Aine cocked her head and suddenly realized what the girl was trying to tell her. She shrugged at Seamus and then started forward, unable to help herself from having a bit of fun. It had been entirely too long.

The Dunmer had started between a couple of the buildings and she hurried after him. Her mind worked quickly and she decided against over-thinking her play here.

"Sir, sir, please," She spoke meekly, "I wonder if you have anything to spare."

"Leave me, wench, you're asking the wrong man."

It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge and Aine continued to prod, wanting a specific reaction.

"Please, sir, anything you have would be welcome. Anything."

She took a chance and reached out to touch his arm. The Dunmer turned on her, grabbing her by the throat, and shoving her roughly against the wall of the nearby building. Aine hadn't quite expected this and she choked for a moment when the breath was knocked from her lungs. His grip was tight and painful, and she worked to remember her goal here.

"I said, leave me the hell alone!" He hissed and gave her another shove against the wall.

Aine's head hit the wood rather sharply and when he let her go, she sagged, not part of the act. She coughed and reached up to rub at where he had squeezed. The Dunmer took off again and she felt rather than saw Seamus come close. His hands were gentle.

"Hey, what the hell?"

"You did it, didn't you, lass?"

The new voice made Seamus start and Aine straightened from the wall a bit. A Nord stood nearby, his red hair hanging to his shoulders save pinned back sides. His rugged face wore the dark beginnings of a beard and mustache and his pale eyes were almost the same color as Seamus'.

"Brynjolf! What fantastic timing," Seamus greeted and didn't move away from Aine, "You okay?"

"Fine," She answered and cleared her throat, dropping her hand. She cocked her head at Brynjolf, "You saw that. What was the point?"

"Why'd you do it?"

Seamus looked between the two, confused.

"This is a fun conversation."

Aine shook her head and Brynjolf came closer.

"I guess you could say I was bored and looking for a laugh. Your turn."

Brynjolf studied her with an intensity that made her rather self-conscious. He eyed her not without appreciation and respect, and glanced at Seamus briefly.

"It was a test. For joining the Guild," He tipped his head at her, "You know what I mean, lass. The girl stole the ring and was supposed to plant it on Brand-Shei, which you just did. That Dunmer needs to remember who's in charge in Riften."

Aine returned his study and was well-aware it could never match his intensity.

"Charming. Here I was just doing it for the fun of it, but since we've found you, there's something you could do for us."

Brynjolf looked rather intrigued and he lifted his heavy shoulders.

"I guess I kind of owe you one, lass. What is it?"

Aine felt rather odd speaking in the open and she glanced about before meeting the Nord's gaze again. He mimicked her movements and smiled at her, his pale eyes lighting.

"Is there-"

"Smoke and mirrors, Brynjolf. Can we talk somewhere private?" Seamus interrupted Aine with ease, "You'll find out why then."

Brynjolf arched his brows and folded his arms over his chest. He wasn't annoyed; his lips actually twitched in amusement.

"You're asking me to break custom, Hady. You know that?"

"It's what I do," Seamus returned, "And besides, Anni here just finished off a job for you and you already admitted you owe us one."

The Nord chuckled. He waved one hand forward and stepped past them.

"Caught in my own trap. Gods, I'm slipping. All right, you two, follow me."

They fell in behind Brynjolf and he led them through a few dark alleys to a steep flight of steps. These ended on a wooden pier, slick with the recent rains, where a few well-kept rowboats were moored. The Nord turned down to the left and then crossed a swaying bridge that connected their pier with another. In the shadows of the walk overhead was a heavy iron and wood door, and he glanced over his shoulder at them when he grasped the handle.

"I'm actually breaking more than one rule here, you know, Hady," He observed and his eyes glittered, "Hope you realize how much trouble you're getting me into."

"And when was the last time you turned down a request from a pretty girl? Come on, Jolf, quit stalling."

Aine elbowed Seamus rather harshly and he grunted in pain. Brynjolf's crooked smile made her face feel hot and she shrugged it away as best she could.

"Can we move on now? This is getting rather ridiculous."

"All business. Good lass."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Hello! Here I am, trying to be on time. And let me apologize to the purists out there for this departure from the Thieves Guild and main quests. It worked for me and that's the absolute beauty of fan fiction. Take care, all, and enjoy!

* * *

Brynjolf opened the door and the air was dank and damp. They started down a close tunnel with an occasional torch hanging in a sconce and water dripped steadily all around them. The Nord had casually put his hand on an axe at his belt and Aine recognized the movement.

"Expecting trouble?"

His eyes were dark in the poor light when he looked down at her.

"Well, the Ratway isn't exactly sweetness and light now, is it? There's some - questionable sorts down here, lass, and it's always best to be on your guard."

Aine gave him the point and followed his lead through the tunnels as they twisted further into the earth. She felt more than a bit turned around as Brynjolf kept cutting first left and then right in a dizzying fashion. They came across a few people hunkered into corners or sprawled on cots in the shadows. Aine wasn't entirely sure these were still living and she wasn't about to investigate for the truth. Only a few of them actually posed any threat, but Brynjolf could probably charm the dragons themselves and they all seemed to know the Nord.

"Usually it wouldn't take quite so long, but someone's pulled up the bridge so we've had to take the scenic route."

"You mean you'd have kept Aine from experiencing Riften's gloriously colored underbelly? That's something no one should miss."

Aine rolled her eyes at Seamus and had just opened her mouth to ask how much further when Brynjolf made one more turn and they ended up at the bottom of a gentle slope in front of a wooden door. He pushed it open and waved them ahead. The room they crossed into was large, the walls curving up into a domed ceiling and the stone floor ringed the wide, still reservoir directly ahead. To the right was another wooden bridge that led to a brightly lit platform with a makeshift pier that extended a few feet over the water.

"Welcome to the Ragged Flagon," Brynjolf said pleasantly, as though he'd just led them through a sunny meadow rather than a depressing network of tunnels, "Come on, we'll get some drinks and you can ask your favor."

Aine could see now why Seamus had hoped Brynjolf hadn't been down here. There was no way they would have gotten through those passages so easily if they'd been on their own.

They followed the Nord over the swaying bridge to the platform which housed a sturdy bar, impressive selection of alcohol, crates and barrels stacked two to three high, and scattered tables. The pier was entered via a few steps and Aine saw a hooded figure sitting in one dark corner, the table before it piled with parchment, jars, and other odds and ends. A big, brown haired Nord was behind the counter, there was a stocky Breton with a bald head speaking to him over this; and a blonde Imperial sat with a slender Redguard at one of the tables. They all turned their attention to Brynjolf when he stepped into the boundary of the light.

"More hopefuls, Brynjolf?"

The Breton's voice was gruff and loud, and his dark eyes flicked over each of them.

"You don't really think I'm that desperate do you, Mallory?" Seamus returned cheerfully, "I'm surprised Vex hasn't lost her patience with you yet."

The blonde rolled her eyes and Brynjolf ushered Aine to the bar, nodding to the barkeep when he gestured to the kegs behind him.

"Same old Hady, huh? Finally found a good one to hitch yourself to?"

"Uh huh, Vex, take it easy with Aine here. She's not really down to playing games at the moment."

Aine completely ignored this conversation, her focus on Brynjolf. The barkeep, Vekel she found out, pushed a mug of beer to her and she turned her attention to the Nord as Seamus leaned against the bar beside her.

"I was wondering if you could help me find a man by the name of Esbern. We heard rumors that he was hiding out in the Ratway and were given your name as the most likely to know."

Brynjolf rubbed at his chin and looked over the bar at Vekel who was listening even as he washed out mugs. Aine followed his gaze and then arched her brows. Brynjolf spoke before she could.

"Vekel?"

The barkeep returned to their corner and slid another mug to Seamus when he put down a few coins. The Nord's dark eyes fixed on Aine.

"Any other person asking me this question would get shit, but Brynjolf seems to think you're okay," He studied her and she set her chin, lifting it in a stubborn fashion that _almost_ made him smile, "He's down in the Warrens, last I heard; some area down there with nutty Hilde. Little old lady that went underground after her husband drowned in the lake. And you're not the only ones looking for him. There's been rumors that some Thalmor wizards are on his trail. If you're going after that old man, watch your back. Those Thalmor aren't to be messed with."

Aine lifted the mug in a toast and took a drink. She tipped her head at Vekel.

"Well, given the introduction, I certainly wasn't expecting this to be child's play. Where is the entrance to the Warrens?"

Brynjolf and Vekel exchanged a quick glance and Brynjolf turned to face her fully.

"You're going in now, lass?"

"And why not? If the Thalmor are closing in on Esbern, I'd much rather find him first. And if you're worried about him, I can assure you I only want information. He'll be much better off with us than the wizards."

Brynjolf's mouth twisted into that crooked grin again and he pushed from the bar.

"This way."

Seamus gave a little groan of disappointment at leaving his beer, but he turned to Vex as Aine thanked Vekel.

"Well, Vex, if I don't come back from this-"

"Don't worry, I'll wear myself out rejoicing."

Aine had to grin at the Imperial's dry sarcasm and she started after Brynjolf.

"Come on, Seamus, you can flirt later."

They started back the way they had come in and Brynjolf turned into what Aine had originally thought was just a storage space. It was, but there was another door in the far wall and the Nord waved at it.

"There, the Vaults are through there and the Warrens are beyond them," He touched Aine's arm as she started past him, "Take it easy in there, lass. The tunnels upstairs catch the crazy but mostly harmless ones. The folks that hide out in the Vaults and Warrens are hiding for a reason and they don't like visitors. Be careful, both of you."

Aine gave him a nod and shoved the door open. Seamus was behind her and they had to stand for a moment on the stone walk, letting their eyes adjust when the door closed behind them. They stood in a dark nook and the pale afternoon light streamed from some opening to the room beyond them.

Aine stepped forward with Seamus at her elbow and then she threw one arm out when she heard the voices. Whoever spoke merely murmured, but the Vaults were spacious enough, it echoed and she dropped to a crouch, ignoring Seamus' soft sigh as she did so. Creeping forward, she listened hard.

"…sure he's down here. I think we'll have to go deeper."

"This place is a damned maze," A second voice argued, "How the hell do you intend we do that?"

"We shut up and search," The third voice was closer, cold and harsh.

Aine slipped one of her knives into her palm and eased forward, peering around the corner. The light beamed in a shaft almost directly in the center of the next room and the stone walkway only extended for roughly five feet before it ended in a drop. Aine couldn't see what lay beyond this and she heard soft footsteps nearby. They came closer and she tensed, readying herself.

"Here, I think I've found a way forward."

The footsteps started to retreat and Aine acted. She slid from their concealing shadows and flicked the knife at the back of the retreating sorcerer. The man grunted and his palms lit with flames as he turned to face them. A second knife sank into his eye and he dropped. There was a sudden stillness below and Aine moved to the wall, away from the walkway's edge, and tiptoed for the doorway where the man had headed. Seamus made a few noises as he trailed her, but he was getting better.

They pressed on as the other two voices began calling the man's name. The tunnel was straight-forward and didn't branch as it made a couple of right-angle turns and ended in a room with one battered bed, a makeshift shelf, and the remains of a fire that had probably been used as recently as last night. They were crossing the room when the sound of a door creaking open greeted them. Aine knocked an arrow and Seamus couldn't be stopped.

He yanked his sword free and let out a bellow, charging in the direction of the sound. She cursed and sprinted after him only to watch as he viciously cut down another of the Thalmor. And of course, he didn't stop there. He kept running and Aine reacted when the third came into view, a ball of lightning in hand and more ready than Seamus.

She took aim and fired. The arrow whizzed by Seamus' head and went clean through the throat of the Thalmor. A wicked thrust from Seamus' sword finished him off and he actually waited for Aine to reach him

"See? Much more fun."

Aine shook her head.

"We got lucky there weren't more. Really, Seamus, we need to-"

"Oh, give me a break, little inferno. I've been laid up for hours and need to find a new outlet. This works."

She let out a sigh and rifled through the Thalmor's pockets only to come up empty. His words irritated her, but for a different reason. It was her reaction that bugged her. She felt herself softening for his situation and she didn't like it; weakness was rather foreign to her.

"All right, then, let's keep going."

"That's it? No scolding? No lectures?"

"You want one?"

"Not really. I'm just surprised you haven't automatically given one. I think you're softening in your old age, Anni."

Aine decided to let that one go and instead started walking again. She stepped lightly, though there wasn't a sound that suggested anyone else was down there with them.

They wound down and found that the large room resembled something like an aqueduct, with grated openings. There was one gate hanging open on the final floor and they crossed through a few more areas that looked like they were lived in from time to time. The gate opened on a dark corridor with another wooden door at one end and this revealed a dim hall that dwindled away into the shadows. To their right was another gate and Aine could hear the mumbling of a female voice. She put her fingers on Seamus' arm and glanced up at him.

"Nutty Hilde?"

He looked confused and then his eyes cleared.

"Good chance. Let's find out."

The gate was locked, but Aine picked it easily. The mumbling came from one of several doors in this new chamber. There were at least three on the lower floor, possibly more hidden in the shadows, and stone steps led to a few more on the open second floor. Aine waited for a minute, eyeing each and hearing Nutty Hilde behind one of the doors on their floor. Seamus' eyes gleamed in the pale light.

"Start trying doors?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice."

Apart from Nutty Hilde's, the other doors on the lower level were silent. Aine saw that Seamus shared her reluctance for knocking on them and they both listened for sounds instead. Snoring came from one of them, rhythmic banging from another, and what sounded like a whetstone against a blade behind a third. Upstairs they heard angry muttering and Seamus nudged Aine with his elbow. She glanced up and he nodded to a dark corner without saying a word. It was a heavily - very heavily - reinforced door and she shrugged at him. They moved closer and saw a long rectangular panel that was just above Aine's eye level. She rapped her knuckles against this and waited, listening for any movement. There was a pause and then sure enough, she heard soft footsteps come closer. The panel slid open maybe an inch or two and Aine moved a little closer.

"I'm looking for a man named Esbern. Do you think you can help me?"

"I don't know that name," A raspy, almost trembling voice said. The panel started sliding shut, "Leave me be."

"Wait, wait," Aine put her fingers in the opening to keep it from closing, "Delphine is… a friend. She asks if you remember where you were on the thirtieth of Frostfall?"

Another silence followed and then a soft chuckle. The rectangle opened almost all the way and clever hazel eyes peered out at them.

"Thirtieth of Frostfall? Clever Delphine," The voice lost all of its shakiness and warmed considerably, "Hold on a moment, I've got to unlock the door."

"Nice work," Seamus congratulated, "Now we just have to get him out of here alive."

"First we have to just get to him," Aine's tone was amused and a bit exasperated.

They listened to roughly twenty locks, if not more, coming unlocked interspersed with muttered apologies and promises of 'just one more'. After what felt like an eternity, the door was pulled open just wide enough to admit them. Esbern slammed it shut again and Seamus put his hand on the old Nord's arm when he reached for the locks.

"Do us a favor and lock about a quarter of them, huh? I think by the time we explain things and you lock that door, it'll be time to get the hell out."

Esbern frowned and Aine took over before the conversation got away from them.

"Master Esbern, Delphine needs her fellow Blade. It might be best if you just come with us now and let us explain on the way," She took a half-step forward when she saw the protest in his eyes, "Please, sir, I know it's difficult, almost impossible, for you to trust an unknown, but I'm afraid your life is in more danger than you realize."

Esbern studied Aine closely and then something cleared in those hazel eyes. He stood a bit straighter and suddenly became the Blade in spite of the greying hair, lined face, and somewhat slumped shoulders. He left the door and moved across the cramped room to a neat desk surrounded by cluttered bookshelves.

"You're talking about the Thalmor. I suppose I have escaped them as long as I can."

"I'm afraid so."

Esbern busied himself while Seamus guarded the door and Aine watched the old man like a hawk. He moved about the small chamber that had served as his home for years, shoving things into a worn leather satchel and muttering quietly to himself. Seamus kept sending her comic looks that went ignored. They had no time for it.

"If you could just take these, lady-lady… Well, what do I call you?"

Aine took the proffered scrolls and made room in her small pack.

"Aine, and this is Seamus. Is that everything?"

"All that I need; the Thalmor can have the rest."

He threw a cloak about his shoulders and secured a couple of knives in his belt. The pack followed and though he cast a rather forlorn look at what he had to leave behind, he beat Aine to the door. Seamus arched his brow and gave him a little salute.

"Welcome aboard, then. Let's go face them head on."

Aine caught Seamus' own forlorn look, but knew it was for the disappointingly quick study of Esbern's fascinating odds and ends. She felt the same twinge of regret, however with the threat of the Thalmor above, she had a bad feeling about lingering here.

They all left Esbern's cramped nook and crossed back into the Vaults. The going was fine and straight-forward until they reached the Flagon. When they opened the door, an excited hum of voices could be heard. Mallory's gruff voice was just a shade louder than Vekel's and Aine and Seamus jostled Esbern behind them. Slowly, they eased through the storage area. Aine only counted three when one of the sorcerers gave a shout and they all - six, as it turned out - turned on her. Seamus yanked her behind his shield when spells flew at them and Esbern fired back - literally.

Flames countered ice and then Esbern conjured lightning that sizzled the air. Seamus and Aine, caught between the spell casters, were completely useless while they were active. More shouts could be faintly heard and the Guild members were mere flashes of movement that produced some good results.

The spells ceased and Aine darted around Seamus. She flicked her knife at a sorcerer intent on Brynjolf and Seamus barreled past her, slamming his shield against another's head. The fight was intense in these close quarters, but it was over quickly. Mallory and Vex instantly began bickering over who had actually taken out the last one. Vex argued that her knife had done the job while Mallory insisted he was already dead from the mace blow to the skull.

Seamus watched with a grin while Aine righted one of the overturned tables. Brynjolf shoved a chair under this and then stood beside it, cleaning his blade as though these attacks were an everyday occurrence. Although, given it was the Thieves Guild and they were in Riften, maybe they were.

"Thanks, for your help," Aine extended one hand to him, "We should get going though. I don't want to bring anymore trouble down on you."

Brynjolf shrugged and gripped her hand warmly.

"You say that like we're not used to it, but I get your point. Glad you had some success. In that last room we came through you'll find a tunnel to the left; it leads to a drawbridge. The lever's set into the wall just before it. That gets you directly to the outside door. You're probably through with these tunnels."

Aine lifted her shoulders and spread her arms a bit. Seamus and Esbern came closer.

"I've seen pleasanter places, but I suppose people in ou-your line of work need a place to hide out just as much as anyone."

"If not more than most," Brynjolf fixed her with a searching look, his head cocked to one side, "'Your' line of work, huh? You mean you're done with this? That trick you managed with Brand-Shei was a smooth piece of work. You've got a talent, lass, it's a shame to waste it."

Aine smiled faintly and let her eyes wander around the Flagon. She had to admit there was a sense of camaraderie here that she really missed. The Guild members treated one other like they were a large, eccentric, family and she did miss the work; rather badly when she was being entirely honest with herself. She had been so busy with this Dragonborn nonsense and so preoccupied with thoughts of Meara and Percival that everything else had faded to the background. Now, with Brynjolf looking at her knowingly and Mallory and Vex's playful argument sounding in her ears, she had to admit it was _very_ tempting.

"Thanks for the compliment, but I've got so many other - it's hard to say right now where I'll end up," She had a sudden thought and she straightened a bit, "And actually, there's something I want to ask you. I know the Guild has ties everywhere and I wonder if you could ask those in Solitude to keep their ears open for any word on a man named Percival? He's - an old acquaintance I'm trying to get in touch with again. Seamus saw him last outside of the city about three or four weeks ago now and I don't know if he's still there or not, so this might be a long shot. If you do hear though I'd appreciate you sending word to me."

Brynjolf's mind was already at work, Aine could practically see the wheels in his head turning. He nodded slowly and Aine could feel Seamus' close gaze. She could only hope that he held his tongue and didn't elaborate on her request.

"I think we could do that for you, lass. Where do we send word?"

Aine hesitated a moment and then took a chance.

"Riverwood. Send it to Hod and Gerdur's residence, but have it addressed to me. They'll hold it for me or send it on. Thanks, Brynjolf, this is really - thanks."

"Well, lass, don't think we'll do this out of the kindness of our hearts. Nothing's free, you know, and that goes double with the Guild. Don't be surprised when the favor's called in."

"I would expect nothing less," Aine couldn't help but smile as she shook his hand again, "Agreed. Take care."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I know, I'm late and I'm so sorry! But here is the next installment and thank you all _so_ much for your patience and for following this story. And I have to say that I'm becoming a very big fan of Seamus. I wasn't sure where the character would be going and I actually really like the dynamic there. Anyway, take care and all the best!

* * *

"So, Esbern, what does the whole thirtieth of Frostfall mean?"

Esbern looked at Seamus in surprise. They had just lost sight of Riften and the old Blade was positioned between the two of them. His horse was a 'borrowed' one from the unguarded stables outside of town and though Esbern hadn't agreed with this action, he hadn't put up too much of an argument after he saw the condition of the poor thing. The mare was thin and rather unkempt and Aine sacrificed a few of Lettie's carrots to her. Esbern was the one to feed her, his expression softening at the way the mare inhaled the vegetables and he stopped scolding them for the theft. Both Seamus and Aine told him to relax as they left the stables, worried his stiffness and darting eyes would tip off anyone they ran into, and Seamus' question was aimed at distracting him. A very good distraction.

"You don't know what happened on the thirtieth of Frostfall? Neither of you?" The Blade seemed incredulous. He let out a rather pained sigh when they merely looked at him, "What is our world coming to that we don't even teach our people their history? On the thirtieth of Frostfall in the fourth era of one hundred seventy-one, a Thalmor ambassador arrived in the Imperial City with a gift for the newly appointed Emperor Titus Mede II: a beautifully ornate and covered cart. He also had a list of demands, which included a complete disbandment of the Blades, banning the worship of Talos, and ceding land in Hammerfell to their Dominion. When this was refused, he upended the cart and the head of every single Blade agent that had been posted in Summerset Isle and Valenwood scattered the floor. It was the start of the Great War."

"Which is why Delphine used it," Aine said thoughtfully and Esbern looked at her with a slight softening, "Very clever. It's when she began her real work against the Thalmor."

"Precisely. It is a date that is very important to the both of us. It was certainly the only way to open the door. You should be very grateful that it is Delphine you allied with in this."

Aine arched her brows and her temper smouldered. She ignored the warning way Seamus said her name and fixed her attention on the old Blade.

"You knew this was coming and yet you still stayed hidden away. You know what the claim is, what I'm supposed to be and what that ultimately means. Are you really going to tell me that you'd have stayed hidden in that shit tunnel knowing how much the world needs your expertise?"

Esbern didn't snap back at her, on the contrary, he stayed still and calm. His eyes were steady on hers and he cocked his head a little. He gave her the impression that he could read her with _very_ little effort and she didn't like it.

"I suppose that I could ask you something similar. The idea that you are - what you are could not be easy to take in. I would be very surprised if you didn't have some doubts about this. Or feel that desire to hide away from fate."

Aine snorted, her temper not cooling, but she was suddenly tired of the subject and she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," She replied impatiently and turned her attention to the road ahead, "What's done is done and we don't have to discuss this anymore. Let's just get back to Riverwood."

Esbern looked as though he was going to cut in again, but Aine spurred Lettie into a trot and made conversation almost impossible. They ventured off the road a few times when they thought they spotted Thalmor heading their way, but night was falling and a steady rain started, making detection less likely. The Sleeping Giant was bustling with locals and Delphine had busied herself in the front with Orgnar. Her expression didn't shift when she spotted them and Esbern was treated as a regular customer while Seamus and Aine dumped their things in her room. They sat with Esbern, ate supper, and waited until they could slip into Delphine's rooms without causing any suspicion. Orgnar helped with this.

"Come on, Dirk, let's hear the new one," His deep voice reverberated over the others and made nearly everyone turn their attention to the young bard, "You've practiced it long enough, we want to hear it."

The young bard mocked embarrassment at the sudden spotlight and demurred. Others in the room started prodding him, too, and he took up his instrument. He moved to a prominent place and Aine tugged Seamus after her when Esbern slid from the table. The old Blade seemed to know where to go to already and they ended up trailing him. Aine had moved to the wardrobe when Delphine stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind her.

"Esbern," She greeted warmly and grasped his hand in hers, "I'm so glad you made it. Come, we have much to talk about."

She opened the wardrobe and led the way down the stairs. Seamus and Aine remained somewhat in the background as Esbern unloaded his pack onto the rough wood table. Delphine had to quickly pull her maps out of the way before they were crushed and she looked more amused than exasperated. There was clearly nothing new in Esbern's behavior for her and Aine couldn't help but smile. The old Blade finally found what he was looking for and he put the red bound book almost reverently on the table among everything else.

"Here, here is everything you need to know."

Aine moved closer and felt Seamus at her elbow. There was nothing remarkable about the book and Delphine, her arms folded over her chest, arched her brows at him.

"And what is it, Esbern?"

"I was not able to retrieve much from the Blades' libraries before they were destroyed, but I have carefully preserved what I did gather," He brushed his fingers almost reverently over the cover, "This is what remains and I have finally discovered the resting place of Alduin's Wall."

His hazel eyes went around to each of them and he clearly expected a reaction. Seamus spread his arms.

"I think you might have to elaborate there, Sparky. I don't have any idea what the hell you're talking about and clearly the ladies don't either."

Esbern gaped at them and Aine frowned up at Seamus.

"'Sparky'?" She repeated and shook her head, amused and rather incredulous, "Why?"

"You were there, Anni, you saw the way he shocked those damn wizards. Besides, it kind of suits him. My streak is still strong."

Aine's lips parted to argue that point, but Esbern had recovered from his shock.

"Astounding. First the thirtieth of Frostfall and now this. Delphine, surely you remember Alduin's Wall?"

Delphine looked very thoughtful and one hand rather absentmindedly twisted the end of her braid.

"It sounds familiar," She finally answered slowly, "But pretend you are teaching us all for the first time."

The old man let out a pained sigh and opened the book. The parchment was yellow and its letters faded, but as he flipped through other pages, they saw the condition of each varied greatly. He finally stopped on an intricate, very detailed map of western Skyrim. They bent closer and Esbern's fingers tapped an odd upside-down V shape.

"Sky Haven Temple, essential to the Blades generations ago. Alduin's Wall is housed within; though, clearly, this has been forgotten."

"So it's a weapon?"

Esbern's annoyance with Seamus' question was palpable; Aine could see his struggle against lecturing her friend. And then his eyes cleared a bit and he tipped his head.

"In a way, I suppose it is. Alduin's Wall is simply that: a wall. It is said to be carved with the entire story of Alduin's last attempt to conquer man. The _entire_ story. So-"

"So it should include how to defeat him," Delphine's voice was eager, "Of course! I remember now; it was Radlick, wasn't it? He couldn't remember for sure, but he mentioned the Wall. We have to find it. If the Thalmor find out what Sky Haven holds…"

"They still believe it is the Blades themselves that have brought about the return of the dragons. Both of them."

Aine smiled as Seamus snorted with laughter at Esbern's sarcasm. The Blades seemed entirely wrapped up in this conversation, to the point of forgetting their audience.

"We can't give them the chance, Esbern. We have to get to Sky Haven Temple and set the defenses. The Thalmor were too close to you to think that they are very far from discovering the Wall themselves."

"Oh, Delphine, always the Thalmor! We must concern ourselves with the dragons, not these wizards that will never go away. We have fought them for years and that won't change. The dragons, however, mean the end of humanity unless we act. Stop wasting your time and energy on meaningless enemies."

"Meaningless? Wasting? Esbern, you're a fool. The Thalmor will destroy us just as completely as the dragons and you can't deny they go hand-in-hand. Downplaying that threat is just-"

"Okay, I'm done," Aine said loudly and met them both stare for stare when they looked at her in surprise, "As entertaining as it is to listen to you two argue, this is pointless. Are we going to this Sky Haven or not? Although, maybe I shouldn't have asked. Actually I really shouldn't have, damn! It would've been the perfect time to get the hell out of here and now… _damn_."

Esbern blinked at her and Delphine let out an impatient sigh, coming back to herself.

"Stop it, Aine. You haven't taken off yet and I really don't think you will at this point, so stop. Our trouble with the Thalmor won't go away and I suppose I see your ultimate point. This isn't the time. Yes, we'll go to Sky Haven Temple. Even without Esbern's map I'm familiar with the area. It is near Karthspire and we can either go together or meet you there."

"You're really going to leave that to her? Even believing that she won't leave? Trusting woman."

Delphine never looked away from Aine. Her brows arched and she shrugged a little.

"Like I said, empty threats. Aine?"

Aine's temper flared again and she was sorely tempted to storm out and leave the inn just to prove the Blade wrong, but she had been thinking of the pros to her situation lately. She wanted to find Percival, track down that asshole Stychus; and she had been coming to the realization that the Dragonborn's contacts would provide her with more opportunities than anything else. It didn't bother her in the slightest that she was exploiting the safety of Skyrim's people for this, she was too wrapped up in her own desires to worry about what seemed so trivial. A little voice whispered Ralof's name and she pushed it aside rather fiercely. Now was _not_ the time for that distraction.

"We'll travel together. I'd be shocked if your Thalmor friends don't track you down and we'll have a better chance if we have greater numbers," Her words made Esbern almost roll his eyes and Delphine looked vindicated. Aine glanced between the two of them, "So now the question is, do we start tonight or wait until the morning?"

Delphine and Esbern exchanged glances and Delphine sent a rather forlorn look around her room. Esbern's expression softened and Aine and Seamus once again seemed to fade into the background.

"It was always going to change, Delphine, it was only a matter of time. These years of peace were tenuous at best and we have never been the kind to live a domestic lifestyle. The quicker you-"

"I know, the quicker we act, the better it will be," This was clearly an old saying between them and Delphine lifted her shoulders and set her head in a proud way that answered Aine's question, "We'll leave tonight and get as far as we can. Karthspire is east of Markarth, near Rorikstead, probably about two days, if that, but who knows what we'll find there. Get ready, you two, and meet us at the stables."

"Well, this will be a fun trip, huh?"

Aine barely heard Seamus as they walked back into the main room after gathering their things. Hod's broad shoulders interrupted her thoughts and she hurried forward before he could escape out the door.

"Hod!" She called, "Wait a minute."

The big Nord turned to her and his face brightened.

"Well, little Aine, I didn't expect to see you again so soon," He grasped her hand warmly and smiled down at her, "Are you staying long? Why didn't you just come to the house?"

"I'm just leaving, unfortunately, I've had… some things pop up I need to deal with. You know what I mean. Listen, I wanted to tell you I may have some letters show up here at your house. I needed a destination and this was the only place I could think of, but now of course, I'm off again. If I do receive anything, could you see that they get to Rorikstead? I'll be in the area for a while and some of the letters might be rather time-sensitive. Please, Hod, I would really appreciate it."

"Of course, Aine, happy to help. Are you sure you can't stop and say hello to Gerdur? She'll be disappointed to miss you."

"I wish I could," Aine spotted Delphine and Esbern in the corner of her eye, "But we have to be off. Give her my best, and Frodnar, too. Thanks again, you've been wonderful."

Hod pressed her hand between his palms and leaned in rather conspiratorially, his eyes dancing.

"Ralof waited for as long as he could, but Ulfric got impatient."

Aine felt her cheeks heat and she shook her head a little.

"We can't have everything, can we? Take care of yourself, Hod, and your own. I'll be in touch with you."

He gave her a nod and went out the door as Seamus stepped close.

"Friend of yours?"

"Hod's a good man. I just wanted to give him the heads up in case I get word from Brynjolf. Come on, let's get the horses ready."

She saw that Delphine was speaking rather intimately with Orgnar and Esbern waited patiently in the background. Seamus followed her out to the stables and they had just finished prepping the mounts when the other two appeared. Delphine looked a bit peaked, but she swung herself into the saddle and spoke briskly.

"Let's get started."

They traveled the rest of the night and well into the the next day. Seamus dozed off and on in his saddle, Delphine remained quiet and thoughtful, and Aine was left to listen to Esbern's chatter. It actually could have been much worse. The old Blade was a wealth of knowledge and he had the knack for telling a story. In no time, she was instructed on the formation of the Blades, their sworn duties, and what happened to them when there was no emperor to protect. For a time, Esbern had been quite interested in the Champion of Cyrodiil and the fact that she and the Emperor Martin Septim had found one another again after sixteen years apart had struck a cord with him. Aine wondered if it paralleled his own life, but she couldn't bring herself to come right out and ask him. It somehow didn't seem right.

Camp was made early that night and Delphine informed them that they would reach Karthspire around midday. Supper was subdued, nothing special, and Aine took the second watch. She relieved Delphine in the wee hours of the morning and sat as close to the fire as she could safely manage. The Breton disappeared into her tent, dropping the canvas across the opening for some privacy. Esbern snored gently in the tent beside hers and Seamus' was across from Aine, the entrance only partially covered.

Aine tipped herself forward, feeding another log to the flames and welcoming the steady warmth. Once again, that internal debate waged within her. The side of her brain that thought it best to take off and forget this whole shit-storm nonsense demanded to know why the hell she was still sitting at the fire instead of taking advantage of this moment and getting the hell out. And then the voice that was sounding more and more like Meara would interrupt and praise her for the selflessness she portrayed in helping a nation that had been her home for the past twenty-five years. She waffled between these two, feeling like a ship buffeted without an anchor - or sails, for that matter - and now the turmoil deepened.

She clenched her fingers together and pressed them to her forehead. She couldn't leave Skyrim without finding Percival and demanding to know what the hell had happened with him. If Seamus was to be believed - and why should she doubt him? - Percival hardly felt Meara's death and Aine's own proposed execution. Not that that part of it surprised her at all, but she just couldn't believe that Meara dying would be forgotten and dismissed so easily. Hell, they had been talking about getting married and finally doing things right when everything fell apart, and Percival had always seemed so mad about her; that Aine had to admit.

A sudden noise startled her and she jerked upright. She must have dozed. The fire was still going, but the log she had added was now burned completely through and laying on a bank of embers. She placed another log on top of this one and had just convinced herself that it was the fire that made the noise when it sounded again. The last of the sleepiness left her and she realized what she was hearing. She tugged her cloak more closely about her and took up the blanket she'd brought out of her tent as well before making her way to Seamus. He groaned again when she slipped inside and pulled the collar closer to her neck against the chill that pervaded when she left the fire's warm ring.

Seamus tossed back and forth on his blankets, his face twisted with pain or fear, she couldn't decide which. It wasn't new, she was actually surprised it had taken this long. The withdrawals of skooma may have passed, but she knew from experience that the nightmares the process conjured could last for weeks; and Seamus seemed rather susceptible to them. She settled onto her knees in the cramped tent, close to his side, and reached out with one hand.

"Seamus, Seamus, take it easy. Everything is okay; you're dreaming. Seamus-"

What happened next was an absolute blur. Aine's fingers had just brushed his shoulder and he suddenly grabbed hold of her. She found herself on her back underneath him and his hands gripped painfully on her shoulders. She fought to steady her heart and breathing and saw that he was still partially sleeping. One of his hands moved up toward her throat and she grabbed at his wrist.

"No, no… not again - No! Lousy bastard - perverted shit - no!"

Aine tugged at his hold, to no avail, and she let out a gasp when his fingers tightened on her neck.

"Seamus, wake up. It's me; it's Aine," She choked, whimpering at the pain. Her fingers dug into his skin, but nothing seemed to faze him. She kicked at his legs and tried to squirm free, and resorted to words again. Her voice was barely a whisper now and panic started to set in when she realized she couldn't breathe, "Please, it's Anni. Seamus - Seamus…" She couldn't take the next breath and black spots danced behind her eyelids. Her fingers clawed at him and a thought struck her. The words were barely a whisper and it seemed amazing he would hear her, "Remember the - the swelling codpiece."

There was a lull and then Seamus blinked, never mind she hadn't said the complete memory. It should have included 'astounding' or 'amazing', but time was not on her side. Seamus' pale brown eyes went wide when he realized what was going on and he released her abruptly, sagging against her.

Aine coughed weakly, wincing when she took a breath. Seamus' head pressed against her shoulder and her fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck. They remained like that for a moment, both struggling to regain control, and Seamus finally shifted.

"Anni-"

"No - oh!" She tried again, this time in a whisper, "No, stop, it - just stop."

His breath was warm against her neck and Aine's hands had wandered to his shoulders again. She pressed her eyes closed and tried to ignore the way goosebumps started up her arms.

"I can't believe I did that," Seamus' head moved nearer to hers and his pale brown eyes were dark in the poor light, "Oh, Aine, I'm sorry, so sorry."

The fingers of one hand brushed tenderly against her throat and Aine fought a shudder. Not a bad one either. Some part of her demanded to know what the hell she was doing while another part welcomed this intimacy. She shook her head and let out a breath. Seamus' hand pressed to her cheek, holding her still, and watched her with a frown. Aine spoke first.

"It - it was a nightmare," She took another breath and waited for some of the discomfort to pass. Her voice was pained and weak, "You didn't mean it."

"Still, to think I did that to you, of all people. Anni-I…" He bent his head, kissed her forehead, and rolled off of her. He helped her sit up and only let go when it was clear she wouldn't fall back over, "I really hate that it was you."

Aine reached up to press her hand against her neck. It throbbed steadily and it hurt to swallow. Seamus let out a curse and she shook her head.

"It was a nightmare," She forced some strength into her voice and hated that catch she heard in spite of her efforts, "And at least I knew the key to break it."

Her trick worked and Seamus gave a faint smile. He shook his own head and they sat in silence for a moment. The 'swelling codpiece' was an old joke. It originated with a job they had pulled in Solitude with a Khajiit by the name of Gylda. She had been a natural pick pocket and had an uncanny ability to sneak into any building, no matter the circumstances. Of course, these talents came with a downside. Gylda had no patience with people and she thought it was a waste of time to learn how to charm her targets. She had preferred taking action, doing the actual stealing, than providing a distraction. So it was left to another companion of theirs, a Breton girl named Fen, to distract one of the guards with her… assets. Seamus and Aine had cleared the way for Gylda and Fen got her target rather - excited. Gylda was the one to say that he must have had an astounding swelling codpiece when they met back up outside the building and pried Fen from the guard. It hit Seamus as rather hilarious in Gylda's hissing voice and became one of his favorite personal jokes. Aine was just grateful her mind had gone to it while she was still conscious enough to speak.

"Good old Gylda," Seamus finally muttered and glanced at her, "Shit, Anni, what are we going to tell Lady Blade and Sparky?"

Aine allowed a little smile.

"We'll tell the truth, Seamus, it wasn't purposeful and I'm fine. You - you didn't know it was me."

He let out a harsh breath and dropped his gaze to his fingers. Silence fell again and Aine waited for him to speak, knowing it was better if he broached the subject.

"He was a twisted shit," His words dripped with venom and pain, and Aine didn't drop her eyes from his face. He spoke to his hands, "I was twelve when he… when it… started. He was supposed to be teaching me the 'tools of the trade' according to my father. Instead I got the damned tools of _his_ trade; his nasty, sick, demented ideas. _Twisted_ shit. How the hell does someone get to the point where they take advantage of that situation? Who the hell lets them? Supposed to be teaching, guiding, protecting their charges and instead… _Shit."_

Aine didn't say a word. There was nothing _to_ say. Seamus suddenly looked up at her and she tipped her head. He spread his hands.

"You know the worst part? My parents didn't want to hear it; they thought I was looking for attention. There's love for you. If you want to know how to make a victim of - that - feel worse, tell him he's full of shit. Skooma helped, at least it numbs it for a while, but… that's no way to live. It's just - the _nightmares…_ Everything suddenly comes rushing back. And here, I've taken that out on you, Anni, and I-"

Aine leaned forward and put her arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head as she pressed her chin to his shoulder. Seamus remained still for a moment and then relaxed, his arms strong against her back. His head rested in the curve of her neck and shoulder and Aine stroked his hair.

"I'm sorry, Seamus, I didn't - I mean, I knew there were some dark things, but I never knew details. I'm so sorry. No one should live through that."

He let out a breath that ruffled her hair and tipped his head against hers as his arms squeezed gently.

"Night of apologies, huh? Should we wake up the rest and see what they can add?"

Aine recognized the deflection and she couldn't blame him. Hell, she'd do the same thing.

"They probably wouldn't go for it. Do you think you can get back to sleep now? I think we've only got a few more hours before we have to head out again."

He let her go, his hands slipping down to cradle her waist. There was a new affection and warmth in his brown eyes that made Aine feel both pleased and almost nervous. Or confused, she wasn't sure which; and now wasn't the time to try and figure it out.

"There's always going to be nightmares, Anni, but I think I can get some sleep still," He smiled at her and it held that same warmth, "You're one in a million, little inferno, and I'm damned lucky to have you."

"You're not that bad either, Hady," She pulled his hands free, held them in her own, and met his gaze, "Get some sleep. We'll deal with the rest of this later."

One hand slid from hers and his fingers touched her neck tenderly. Aine went still, feeling her pulse leap and hoping against hope he missed it. He rested his hand on her shoulder, his fingertips against the already bruising skin, and caught her eyes. His own flickered in an unreadable way that she didn't like and his other hand joined the first. He cradled her face in his palms, leaving her to wrap her fingers around his wrists, and then he bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. She blinked in surprise and he didn't shift away from her. Instead, he lowered his head again so his lips brushed hers, feather-light, tender; almost lover-like, and he pulled back. His mouth curved in a smile and he dropped one hand. Aine merely looked at him, shocked into silence, and he explained it simply.

"You're going to find that Nord of yours, Anni, and you'll get the chance to be happy, like you deserve. But you mean a lot to me and I have to - I wanted you to know that. You _need_ to know that, at least once."

Aine couldn't think of a response and so she gave him a nod and slipped out of the tent, dropping the canvas fully over the opening. She sat down rather hard on the log near the fire and bent forward, dropping her face into her hands. The feel of Seamus' hands holding her so gently, how his lips caressed hers…

She folded her arms over her knees and burrowed her head into them. The complications and confusion Ralof brought about in her were absolutely nothing compared to this.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I know, I'm late again! So sorry about that and I won't make excuses, I'll just let you get right to it. Take care all!

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"I still can't see how _that_ was an accident."

Aine lost her temper.

"Did this happen to you?" She snapped, ignoring the way her throat throbbed with the suddenness of talking, "Are you immediately affected by it? It was between me and Seamus and it's over. Drop it."

Delphine met her glare for glare. They had broken up camp a while ago and Aine had had to explain several times what happened to her neck as they worked. The Blade was less than inclined to believe Seamus didn't mean harm and given his history with skooma, she was sure that he was back on the stuff. Aine herself had kept her temper admirably well - she thought - and now after two hours of having to defend her friend, she couldn't keep it up any longer. They were traveling beside a rushing river, around large boulders and gnarled trees, and she wanted to enjoy the sunshine rather than rehash a moment that was clearly done.

"So, Sparky, what else do we need to know about Sky Haven Temple?"

Seamus spoke rather louder than usual and Aine glanced at him. He gave her a wink and she let out a short breath. He was back to normal, treating her as though she was his sister, while she still struggled with the intimacy of their moment the night before. None of her confusion had eased, if anything his going back to where they had been was even more disorienting. But the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was go over that situation and so in the meantime, she played her part in what felt like a farce of normalcy. Or, well, as normal as things could be.

They had now crossed over onto a path between sharp-rocked cliffs with bushes and more little trees growing in between the cracks of the boulders. The sunlight still cut down on them, but the breeze was chilly and Aine tugged the scarf closer to her neck. She usually avoided them, they were a hindrance in her line of work, but it was a good way to hide the worst of the bruises.

"The Temple was built for the Blades and the Dragonborn, that is all we need to remember," Esbern answered and looked over at Aine, "Whatever keys we need for entry, we already have."

"Wonderful, I'm thrilled," Aine spoke drily and they emerged from the secluded path into an open river valley. The way cut around the cliff wall, hiding the valley from full view and they continued, hearing the river rush ahead of them, "Nothing like being a walking skeleton key for a fortress we know nothing about. Really, Esbern-"

She was interrupted when Delphine reached out and yanked her sideways. Her fingers tangled in Lettie's reins, the only thing that saved her from tumbling completely out of the saddle which was even more difficult when the little mare reared, as startled as she was.

The arrow whizzed by Aine's head, ruffling her hair, and cracking sharply off the rocks behind her. She shook herself free of Delphine's grip, slid from Lettie's saddle, and backed into the cover of the cliff wall. The others swore and followed her, Esbern sending a gout of flames toward the archer. Seamus had his shield in one hand, the sword in the other and Delphine jumped down to join Aine. Lettie and Bes were shoved toward the protection of the cliff-surrounded path and Esbern had to force Seamus out of the saddle to do the same with their mounts.

Aine gripped her bow tightly and eased forward. Around the cliff, the river cut through large, flat stones and the rippling grassy meadows, glinting in the bright sunlight. Ruins hulked over a bend in the river and directly across from her position was a flight of wide stone steps cut into the rocks. They led up to a cavernous opening in the cliff side, but between them and it, at the base of the ruins, was a well-constructed camp. It consisted of several different levels of large wooden platforms built over the fast flowing river and she spotted movement as the inhabitants hastened to defend themselves. Her heart sank a bit, they were _very_ outnumbered.

"What the hell?" Seamus muttered, "Now what?"

Aine strung an arrow and let it fly. The archer fell from the top of the ruins and landed with a splash in the river. This caused more of the inhabitants to take cover and she ducked back when more arrows sailed their way. They scattered the stone around them and Delphine looked at Esbern. She didn't say anything, but he gave her a nod.

"I can do some damage, I believe. Or at least distract them to give us a chance."

Aine and Seamus exchanged a glance and the old Blade stepped forward before they could ask. He conjured a large ball of flames in his hands and made the air shift as he flung it down at the camp. It smashed into the wooden railings of one of the platforms and the flames caught. They spread quickly and Esbern conjured a second. Soon, the encampment was burning in at least three or four different locations, spread in such a way that it took more than one person to douse them. Aine caught on to the ploy and she hurried to Lettie's saddle. She yanked a spare shirt from the pack and tore it into long strips which she bound around a few of the arrows. Esbern ignited these for her and she shot them into the roofs of a few of the buildings, increasing the chaos. The fire's confusion allowed her to pick off more of them and Seamus was getting impatient.

"Come on, provide me some cover, Anni, and we'll get over this bullshit."

"Wait, Hady, just wait," Delphine put one hand on Seamus' arm, whatever animosity and issues she had with him forgotten in that moment, "We have to make sure."

Aine took out a second archer that had climbed up to the ruins and Esbern lit another portion of platform on fire. Seamus couldn't be stopped. He hefted his shield and tightened his grip on his sword before darting from their cover and hurrying down to a clutch of boulders not far from them. Aine cursed under her breath and fired again when the archers focused on Seamus' hiding spot.

"You're up, Delphine," She said and shot another one, "Before he gets us all killed."

"And you really think I'm going to get involved in his stupidity? You wanted him along."

"And you have to see that he has guts, not to mention an absolute willingness to sacrifice himself for his friends. I'm not taking that lightly."

"I don't think that I have to see any of that, to be honest."

Aine fired again, further angered when the arrow sailed just over her target's head. She turned to glare at the Blade.

"Are you going down there or not?"

Esbern said something too quietly for Aine to hear and Delphine muttered something in return. Aine provided her cover and she made it to Seamus' hiding place. Esbern followed without a protest and Aine, worried she was going to run out of arrows, bolted after him. Arrows whistled around her, a few bouncing off her armor and one raking through her hair rather painfully. She slid behind the boulders with the rest and could hear the flames eating the wooden platforms. The voices of the inhabitants were loud with fear and anger, and Aine snatched up the arrows that had fallen close to their hideout. A sudden crack startled them all and ice shattered around them. Delphine cursed under her breath.

"It's the damned Forsworn."

Aine didn't have time to ask her what the hell that meant. Another spear of ice slammed into the rocks and the shards actually burned when they landed on the skin. Esbern touched Aine's elbow and she nodded to him. She strung an arrow and rose up to fire at the same time as the Blade. The warrior that had been attacking them was prepared, but they were faster. Aine's arrow sank into his shoulder and Esbern's flames ignited him a moment later. There were only a couple of archers left and Aine took care of them as portions of the platforms fell into the river, taking a few of the warriors with them.

Delphine and Seamus took that opportunity to charge into the camp. There was another sorcerer that Esbern almost missed and Aine slung her bow back and pulled out her little axe. A large knife accompanied it and she hardly missed wearing a shield. They swept through the rest of the camp, taking out the remaining enemies and continuing to the other side when it was rather obvious the fires were going to cut off their path.

A large portion of the bridge that led to those stone steps was burning already and Delphine and Esbern bolted across. Aine and Seamus followed, Seamus in the rear. They rushed up the swinging bridge, the river white with rapids far underneath them as they climbed. Aine reached the first stone step, hearing Esbern and Delphine fighting yet another of the Forsworn, when the bridge snapped.

Seamus let out a yell and Aine spun in time to grab one of his flailing hands. His weight yanked her forward and she hit the heavy wooden beam that had secured one side of the bridge. A cry escaped her as it felt like her shoulder was trying to separate. She hooked her legs around the post when she fell to the ground, stretched out to her not-so-substantial full length to keep her grip on Seamus. She grasped him with her other hand, but she had no strength to pull him up. Delphine and Esbern's fight seemed to go on forever and she felt Seamus attempting to climb. The strain on her arms was unbearable and her legs began to tremble. Seamus couldn't seem to manage the climb and just when she felt like she couldn't hold on any longer, Delphine was there.

The Blade dropped to her knees and reached down. The terrible weight on the end of Aine's arms eased a little, but she didn't release her hold until Seamus was beside her. She sat up, her legs not about to support her if she stood, and slumped against the post that she suddenly realized had been leaning rather severely. It tipped back against her weight, hit a boulder, and stopped. Seamus dropped beside her and Delphine was crouched beside him. They remained silent for a moment, trying to catch their breath, and Aine was relieved when Esbern came to stand at the edge of the drop, studying the still-burning camp below.

"Thanks," Seamus finally said, "Both of you. I wouldn't - thanks."

"I may not approve of you, Hady, but we're comrades, companions in this and your help has been… very appreciated."

It was the closest Delphine would ever get to admitting she actually liked Seamus a little and, to his credit, he didn't crow over it. Instead he gave her a nod and then looked rather comically down at Aine. She found herself smiling, truly smiling.

Things were suddenly back to normal. Seamus was her friend again, not a complication she didn't need, and her own feelings for him were thrown into relief. She loved him, sure, but it wasn't anything more than a friend-almost-brother like it always had been and those clouds of confusion burned away.

"When my shoulders are back to normal, I'll accept that," She replied and saw with a start that he could actually recognize her sudden revelation. His smile was very warm, like it had been, "Until then, we'll keep on."

"Yeah, you look ready."

Delphine ignored Seamus' sarcastic words and frowned up at Esbern.

"What about the horses?"

Aine and Seamus both looked at her and followed her gaze to Esbern. He hadn't really looked away from the drop and now he pointed further down the cliff.

"There's another path that looks like it leads into the ruins. We should be able to get them up here from there."

Aine gave him a nod and started to her feet. Her legs protested rather angrily and her shoulders still twinged with pain. She let out a little gasp even as she managed to stand. Seamus stood beside her and Delphine was the next to speak.

"You and Hady wait here, Aine. Esbern and I will bring them back."

Aine frowned and glanced at the path Esbern spotted. She didn't like this. There was no reason for the Forsworn to have two paths here, at least she couldn't see any reason.

"It's okay, Delphine, we can all head back. Besides, I can't figure out why these people would use a bridge if there's a perfectly good path, it doesn't make sense. It might be a good idea for the four of us to face whatever it is they were avoiding."

"No, no, don't be ridiculous," Delphine's expression was nearly soft now, "You and Hady should rest and we'll be fine. Anyway if there's a problem, you'll be able to hear us. Wait here, we won't be long."

The two of them left before either Aine or Seamus could say anything and Seamus looked down at her in surprise.

"Did we actually fall and end up in a different age? Or did she hit her head on something?"

Aine let out a little chuckle.

"Damned if I know," She returned and watched them until they were out of sight, "Though I'm tempted to blame you."

"Me? What'd I do?"

Aine sank down onto the boulder behind them, her legs aching and her arms still throbbing. She reached up to rub at her left one, the one that had taken the brunt of Seamus' weight. He settled beside her with a worried frown and she spoke before he could start.

"Well, your little show of guts - and stupidity - seemed to strike a chord with her. To be honest, I thought it was more the stupidity, but she appreciates bravery and you had that in spades. This must be her way of repaying you. Relish it, Seamus, they're going to be very few and far between."

"You don't have to tell me, Anni, the way to impress the scary ones has always been a weird and terrifying experience. Remember Cath? She didn't like me until I stripped naked and sauntered around to distract those fellows from the tower. And I still had to stab the one in the neck to keep him away while you guys were in there."

"I don't remember Cath being scary," Aine said thoughtfully, thinking back on the Dunmer woman, "I mean, not any more than usual. She was intimidating, but I always figured that was just her way of getting by."

"That's because you're a girl. Cath hated men, unless they could help her. She got involved with Faas just because she needed the link to that Jarl; he about lost it when she left him."

"But she's married now," Aine argued and recalled how happy her Dunmer friend had been during that simple ceremony. As happy as a Dunmer could look anyway, "She can't be that much of a man-hater. At least not now. I suppose I have to grant you the point that she was more than a bit standoffish when we worked together, but that's just one example. And why are we talking about Cath? I mean, what do she and…"

"They have a lot in common, Aine, you can't deny that. And I'm just talking to keep you distracted. You wanted to go with Delphine and this is a way to keep you from dwelling on whatever you were worried about," His brown eyes slid away from hers and he waved one hand, "Besides, here they come."

Aine followed his wave and watched as Delphine and Esbern headed their way, leading the horses. They reached them a moment later and they turned to the cavernous opening as one unit. The interior was dark and damp; Esbern ignited a torch for Delphine and she led the way. The cavern was actually a few little rooms connected by short, dark passages. It was clear the Forsworn had used these as shelter and storage, but the place was empty and they left the goods alone. Right now, the entrance to Sky Haven was more important.

Soon, they reached a portion of the cavern that no longer showed human occupancy. Another short tunnel led to a very impressive hollow. It was open to the sky above, in the wall directly ahead was what looked like something of a balcony several storeys over their heads, and Esbern was quick to spot the sloping path that led to three pillars carved with reliefs. He left the horses to Seamus' care and hurried up it. To the left was a long, narrow stone slab with a mechanism at the bottom of it, giving Aine the impression that it was a crude drawbridge. Esbern was muttering to himself and when they joined him, he spoke more coherently.

"These pillars mean something. This is 'warrior', here is 'king'; and this is the symbol for 'Dragonborn', of course."

Aine stepped forward and didn't even ask his opinion. She saw that the one to the far right was what he called the Dragonborn: what looked like two long, slender dragons facing one another with a simple, very Nordic arrow pointing down between their feet. The first was stiff with disuse and it screeched as she finally managed to make it turn to reveal the same symbol. The second went a bit more easily and as soon as the Dragonborn symbol faced them, the mechanism gave a click and the long pillar dropped slowly down to rest on the edge of the rise they stood on.

"Well, let's see what else the old Blades have in store for us."

Delphine started across first and Aine caught her arm. The Blade glanced at her.

"Esbern said these locks would be for the Dragonborn," She offered, "I think it might be better for all of us if I go first."

Delphine paused a moment and then stepped back and waved one hand. Aine led the way up another short, dark path - Seamus following carefully with the mounts - and found herself at the entrance to another cavern. The floor was covered with tiles carved with the same symbols and Esbern touched her elbow.

"Wait," He said.

"I know. They're pressure plates," Aine never looked at him. She studied the plates and could dimly see that the Dragonborn stones led to a tall stone formation with a chain dangling down the front, "All right, I have to do this alone. Wait here, that chain should make it safe for you to follow."

"If you can reach it," Seamus answered and she looked over at him to see that he was studying the stones, "I don't know, Anni, they're pretty small."

"I have to try or we'll all be standing here when the world is finally destroyed," She was half-tempted to lose her weapons, just to help with her balance, but there was no guarantee what would spring up if she mis-stepped, "Here it goes."

She started across and found that Seamus was right. The stones were small and a whole hell of a lot smaller when you were focusing on not stepping on any of the others. Roughly halfway across, her foot hit one of the other plates and flames erupted. She heard the others shout her name, the horses neighed in fright, and she stepped forward quickly until there were three stones between her and the fire. Her leather armor was scorched along her right arm and she could smell that nasty odor of burnt hair. Trying not to think of how bad it was, she pressed on.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, nothing that can't be made right again."

"I don't think Lady Blade likes that answer, Anni, want to try again?"

"Not really," Aine answered drily and could practically feel Delphine's animosity for Seamus deepen again, "Now no more talking, I need to concentrate."

There were no more close calls and Aine pulled the chain with a sigh of relief. She heard the stones around her give quiet clicks and thought for a second that she was absolutely screwed, but no flames started. Her eyes studied the stones and she saw that they were all standing proud save the Dragonborn path she had created. Seamus was the first to start her way. The horses followed after him and the way was safe.

They pressed on, over another stone bridge which looked down on the first, and then back into the cliff side. The path turned up a worn flight of steps, cobwebs thick in the corners, and then they stood in what Aine had thought was a balcony at the top of the cliff. She looked down at the stone bridges for a moment and then led the way down another flight of steps to the next cavern.

This was the same as the first: there was no ceiling, instead the late afternoon light slanted across and the air chilled. There was a large ornate chest on a small platform that held a few treasures that Aine had no problem pocketing. Esbern stood near a carved relief in the floor and she moved to him as Seamus and Delphine brought up the rear. Delphine's torch lighted the rather labyrinthine shape of the relief and Aine had difficulty tearing her eyes away from the large face carved directly ahead of them. It was a man's face, thin with proud cheekbones and surprisingly full lips. The nose was broad and rather noble, and the empty eye sockets bothered her.

"Ah, this is the 'blood seal'," Esbern's words drew her attention, "Another of the lost Akaviri arts and requiring - well, blood."

"Clever people," Seamus muttered and let the horses wander to the few bushes in the hollow.

Esbern ignored him.

"And you see how they revered Reman Cyrodiil," He waved at the face and then remembered what they were supposed to be doing, "This fits, and it requires your blood, Aine. As the Dragonborn, you are the only one who can open this seal."

Aine didn't like the sound of this, but she stepped forward and looked down at the shape. Esbern still muttered to himself - and them, she supposed - about how the place seemed a shrine to Reman Cyrodiil; how he had ended the Akaviri invasion under suspicious circumstances, among other things as well. She drowned him out, tugged a knife loose, and crouched near the center of the shape. Seamus came closer, standing at the edge of the shape and watching silently as she drew the blade across her fingers. Clenching her hand into a fist, Aine let drops of her blood fall onto the center stone. The effect was almost instantaneous.

A shimmering white swarmed the relief and Aine abruptly got to her feet. Seamus said her name, but it was lost in a sudden harsh grinding. The horses made frightened noises, but Delphine reacted quickly enough to keep them from bolting. Esbern looked more excited than usual and Aine took that as a good sign.

"That's done it."

She couldn't really see what it had done and then the face began swinging backwards, revealing a gently sloping staircase. She blinked and found herself looking at the old Blade.

"After you, Aine, the Dragonborn should have the honor of being the first to set foot in Sky Haven Temple."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** And we're back. Thanks to all my lovely readers for your patience and loyalty, and I hope you enjoy and have a fantastic week! Take care, catalinaD

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Aine really, truly couldn't have cared less, but she obliged him and headed up the stairs first. They ended at double doors with the Dragonborn carved into them as well. She reached out and twisted the heavy iron handle, giving the doors a push. They stood on another dark staircase and Delphine held up her torch. Aine pressed on up the stairs and then stopped again at the top.

The room ahead was massive. There was a narrow hole in the ceiling that shafted down sunlight on a long stone table and the wooden chairs scattered about it. Massive pillars ringed this open area, stairs led up straight ahead and another kept going to their right. There was a doorway that gaped black ahead and to the left, but it was the large expanse of wall adjacent to the table that held their attention. Even in this poor light, it was clearly carved with great expertise. A chill pervaded the place, but Esbern seemed not to notice. He hurried past Aine to the carved wall.

"And here it is," He exalted and stopped just shy of running into the thing. His fingers trailed across some of the carvings, "Alduin's Wall."

Aine followed after him slowly, still taking in this astounding place. The table held a few dusty plates and goblets that gleamed gold when Delphine's torch flickered over them. The horses wandered around them, forgotten for the moment.

Esbern was holding a handful of flame close to the carved wall and he glanced quickly at Aine when she reached him. The Wall looked like a confusion of a lot of shapes, but she realized this was thanks to the fire's changing nature. When she studied it as a whole, she could make out the dragon shapes, the buildings, and the warriors that were represented.

"This Wall tells the story of Alduin, beginning with the rule of his Dragon Cult over the people of Skyrim," He stepped down the relief a little ways and motioned with his free hand. He kept talking, walking slowly along the Wall as though he was a museum proprietor, "And here is where the people rebelled: the Dragon War. Alduin's defeat is the centerpiece; here you can see the Masters of the Voice arrayed before him as he falls from the sky. Absolutely astounding!"

"Does it say how to defeat him?" Delphine cut in and Aine got the impression that she was doing her damnedest to keep Esbern on track, something she was learning was no simple task, "That's why we came here, after all."

"Patience, dear Delphine, the Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Everything they wrote, left behind, passed on to the rest of us is couched in abstraction and mystic symbolism. Let me consider this for a moment."

Silence fell save the quiet sounds of the horses' hooves and Seamus' efforts to clean the plates to find out if they were truly gold. Aine gave him a warning look and he shrugged at her as though to ask her what she expected. She felt her lips quirk and she turned her attention back to Esbern when he let out a breath.

"Ah, yes, here we are. This symbol is the Akaviri word for 'Shout'. Extraordinary! The Nords found a Shout that brought Alduin out of the sky."

"Can you tell which Shout it is? I mean, damn, Esbern, if all we have is 'Shout', we're stuck."

"It does not specify, but I am sure it's something particular to dragons, or perhaps to Alduin himself," He was too taken with the Wall to give Delphine his full attention and he missed her annoyed expression, "Remember, this is where they recorded all they knew of Alduin and his kind."

Delphine seemed to realize she wouldn't get anywhere with him and she looked at Aine who had been watching the exchange with just the beginnings of amusement. It was clear whatever softness the Blade had experienced during the aftermath of their fight had faded and she was back to her abrupt, impatient self.

"Have you ever heard of such a thing? A Shout that knocks a dragon from the air?"

Aine snorted and spread her arms, wincing at the twinge of pain in her shoulder.

"You're forgetting I'm brand new to all of this, Delphine. I'm really the last one you should ask," A sudden thought struck Aine and she tipped her head, "But the Greybeards might. They've been at this for generations, maybe they can help."

Delphine's face tightened and she glanced quickly at Esbern who broke from his study long enough to give her an almost exasperated look. Aine cocked her head even more, suddenly intrigued. She met Delphine's gaze with arched brows.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," The Blade muttered and lifted her shoulders, "But I suppose we have no choice, though I hate involving them here."

"Something wrong with the old men? Save the fact that they're rather eccentric?"

"If it was up to them, you would be sitting up on their mount talking to the sky or whatever it is they do there. Your power would be wasted because they have an inordinate fear of it. Of their own. It's absolute foolishness," Delphine was more animated than Aine had yet seen her and that was saying something, "Think about it, Aine. Have they done anything to stop the civil war? They know Ulfric, they _taught_ Ulfric, and they have so far refused to exercise whatever influence they might still have over him. Not to mention this trouble with Alduin. They have not stepped forward in the trouble with him either and who better to assist than those that have studied the Voice for years? They have done nothing, they turn a blind eye and pretend it isn't happening. There is nothing to be admired in this."

Aine lifted her shoulders.

"Power is all well and good, but it's too easy for some people to misuse it," She heard a soft mutter from Seamus and recalled what he had told her, though that hadn't been foremost in her mind at the time, "I don't need to tell you that I'm reluctant to accept any of this, I haven't made that a secret, but I can see their point. Power's dangerous."

"Only for the weak," Delphine exhibited her stubbornness in all its glory, "Do you hear of those who hide from their abilities? No, of course not. And yet you hear of villains who take full advantage and those heroes who stop them, welcoming the chance to use what they can to save those they love. Can you imagine the Greybeards descending from their perch to make a difference like that? Not at all, they don't care, so long as they remain unmolested. Don't shrink from this, Aine, that's sheer stupidity."

Aine was tempted to keep Delphine going in this vein, enjoying the show, but Esbern had moved to the other end of the Wall and interrupted them.

"Look here, the last panel. It shows the Akaviri coming to Tamriel's shores in search of the Dragonborn after the prophecy. You can see their distinctive long blades. And here they are kneeling as they have fulfilled their mission with Alduin at the end of times. Are you listening, Delphine? You may learn something of value about our history."

"Is there any place we can keep the mounts?" Seamus suddenly quizzed, "I think they need to be outside."

"There should be doors to the outside up that staircase," Esbern couldn't be bothered with anymore details and Seamus gathered the horses and headed in the direction he indicated.

Aine almost followed him and then decided against it. Esbern had kept up the discussion with Delphine and afforded her the chance to explore the Temple. She found out quickly that the staircases led up to outside doors and then back down again into the massive front room. She finally found a split in one of them with stairs leading back down to the left while the other doorway opened on a large communal sleeping quarters. Each of the nearly two dozen cots had its own trunk, nightstand, and low dresser; rugs scattered the stone slab floor and there were at least four fireplaces in the surrounding walls. A doorway in the far wall revealed another, almost identical room and she went back to the main room.

The black doorway fascinated her and she grabbed one of the extra torches Delphine or Seamus lit and headed that way. It was a long hallway with yet another staircase leading down to the left and individual bedrooms opening off of it, and she checked each one out of curiousity.

It surprised her that they were not similar apart from housing fireplaces and beds. Each had a different floor plan and though the drapes and furniture had suffered the years of neglect, they ran the gamut of different regions. The hallway sloped upward, a few sets of shallow steps breaking up the climb here and there. The bedrooms grew a bit larger and the one at the very end of the hall, up another set of five steps, was her favorite.

It was one of a handful that had any windows to the outside; long, narrow things that they were, it was better than nothing. The bed was in decent shape and there was no smell of rot or damp. She found a large bowl in one of the walls with coals still housed within. She ignited these and waited for the room to lighten. There was another bowl and she lit this as well. The hearth was empty, but there was kindling and other larger pieces available and she used the rest of her torch to start a healthy blaze. The chimney creaked and smoked for a moment and then burned clean and she studied the room again. The circular shape was utilized as much as possible. The furniture matched the shape: a large wardrobe, a dresser with a dusty mirror, matching chairs and small table close to the fireplace, and the very comfortable-looking bed.

As the light grew stronger, Aine realized that the windows were much larger than she first thought. They were covered with dark, heavy shutters and what she saw was just the top eight or so inches. She moved closer and finally found the catches. She was wrong again. There were two windows bracketing glass-paned double doors and she crossed to the other set of windows to find the same. A curving balcony that stretched between the two and she struggled to open the doors. The hinges were stiff and the doors screeched when she finally managed. Cool air flowed through and the late afternoon light slanted brightly. The view was remarkable.

The room was on the rear of the Temple, overlooking a pretty courtyard overgrown with old plantings. She was surprised how high up she actually was, considering the climb had been so gradual; and then she remembered the first hollow on the Dragonborn path and how high that 'balcony' had been and changed her mind.

Directly ahead, the sun was setting behind the snow-capped mountains, making them sparkle. The peaks looked cruel against the sky and she tore her eyes from them to study the courtyard. It was spacious and though overgrown, it had the potential to be stunning. Beyond this, on the other side of a short rock wall, was an open area with outbuildings. Aine had the impression that they had probably been intended for a sparring field. She could see the horses milling about, nosing amongst the bushes and patches of grass.

A sense of peace settle over her and she leaned forward, her elbows on the cold stone railing, directing her eyes to the peaks again. There was a quiet solitude here and she found herself relishing it. Things had happened so quickly: Meara and Percival, the bastard Stychus, Helgen and the dragons, Ralof… She had hardly had time for a breath, let alone much time for thought, and though for a while she had avoided any opportunity that presented itself, now - she actually welcomed it.

She had fallen headfirst into this Dragonborn thing, caught completely off-guard and what struck her the most was how quickly her resistance faded. It wasn't like her. She normally made up her mind and that was it, end of story, and she had been _so_ determined to get the hell out of Skyrim after Helgen. And yet she remained, helping the people of Skyrim because… she really couldn't decide. It hadn't been out of loyalty, she knew that for sure; the blame for Meara's death still belonged to the country - never mind it had been at the hands of the Imperial Legion. She still intended to use this to find that particular bastard and knew that played a part in her remaining, but as for the rest…

To be honest, she was starting to worry about getting soft. Her line of work normally left no room for the consideration of others and she thought maybe-

"Well now, this is more like it," Seamus' voice startled her and she turned to see him standing in the doorway, "Glad to know the old Blades had some idea of comfort."

Aine was suddenly conscious of just how cold she'd gotten standing there and she went back into the room, pulling the doors shut. The fire was still crackling and she tossed in a few more logs and welcomed the wave of heat.

"Not everyone has Delphine's forbearance," She agreed and glanced at him, "Speaking of which, how are things going down there?"

"Sparky is still courting his wall and Lady Blade went looking for the kitchens," Seamus was examining the contents of the small dresser and he glanced over his shoulder at her, "Despite our differences, she's a girl after my own heart."

Aine gave him a small smile.

"We should get those goods of the Forsworn's and lug them in here. Someone should use them."

She ushered Seamus ahead of her after screening the fire and he made the going slow while he looked for a room that he wanted. He finally found one a few doors down from Aine's. It was large and spacious with the same type of windows and a small balcony. There was a loft for sleeping on one side of the room and the rest was free for furniture and anything the owner might want or need. Aine had the suspicion that it was a cabinet full of bottles that made up his mind, but she didn't say anything and they went on down to the main room.

Esbern must have taken something of a break in his study. The rest of the bowls were lighted along with a massive fireplace near the table that Aine hadn't noticed before. She wondered if the old Blade had used a spell to get rid of the cobwebs and dust since it had been done so thoroughly. The pillars also had carvings that were now visible, but they were just the standard Nordic patterns that you found everywhere. Delphine was not there and they went back to that staircase. A orange gleam of light came from the bottom and Aine could hear faint sounds of movement.

The kitchen was massive and Delphine had the shutters on the narrow windows open. She hadn't lighted any of the four hearths, but she had found a cache of torches and the place was well-lighted. Two large tables dominated the center of the room with matching hanging racks suspended over them. The pots and pans were dusty, but seemed in good order, and the long counter that ran practically the entire perimeter of the room held more tools of the trade for the Temple's cooks. There was another doorway in the corner of the kitchen and when Seamus and Aine entered, Delphine jerked her head at it.

"Larder and a pretty well-stocked one," She had one end of the nearest table piled with papers and spoke in a distracted sort of way, "I wasn't sure what to expect. The perishables are gone, of course, but there's rice, beans, flour, potatoes that are still good, and a number of other things we can use."

"Great, Seamus and I were thinking we'd get the goods from the Forsworn and pack them up here," Aine moved closer, "What is all this?"

"Esbern is busy with his wall that's not telling us anything else and I figured there had to be _something_ in here from the Blades that might be helpful. They were pretty clever. I found this in the cook's recipes. No one would have thought to look there."

"Except you apparently."

Delphine shrugged at Seamus' sarcastic comment and held out a paper to Aine.

"They mention Alduin here, but it's the same. Nothing more than the hint that it was a Shout."

Aine read the faded words without much interest. She still held to the idea that the Greybeards would be their best option. The letter was short, just an indication of Alduin's defeat, the Blades' triumph, and what sounded like a fairly great celebration at the Temple. She handed it back.

"Anything else?"

"Just daily operations, a few more mentions…" Delphine's voice faded as she read another long letter, "I haven't gotten too far. But there's plenty of room in the larder if you want to bring that stuff up."

Aine nodded and they left the kitchens, grabbed one of the horses, and wandered back down to the Forsworn stash. It took several trips even with the horse, to bring everything up and the larder looked much better with the shelves full.

Seamus offered to cook that night and though Delphine looked doubtful, Aine gave him the go-ahead. She knew he was a good cook and she played the part of cook's help. The large main room was welcoming despite its size and the roast hare stew was delicious. Aine had unearthed several boxes of Nordic ale and a few of a deep red wine that Delphine said came from Whiterun; and though it felt a bit strange, eating in this deserted Temple with the ghosts of the past so apparent, they enjoyed themselves.

Seamus and Esbern dominated most of the conversation, each having a talent for telling a story, and even Delphine seemed to relax a little. Aine kept remembering that she had had to say goodbye to her lover and she allowed some pity for the Blade; it couldn't have been easy.

"Do you think any of the Forsworn will come back to their fort down there?" Seamus quizzed, tipping more ale into his glass and nudging the wine bottle at Aine. She smiled, knowing he saw how little she had imbibed and encouraging her as he usually did, "I mean, it might get a bit shitty if they decide to move into the Temple here."

"We don't have to worry about that. The Forsworn are a superstitious people," Esbern helped himself to another slice of the rich dark bread, "The people in the fort were killed and they avoid the killing ground for fear of the spirits. They believe they will become restless and vengeful. So we have nothing to fear."

"Very convenient," Aine replied and got to her feet, "The horses should be put up. I'll be back."

"Taken care of, Aine. They'll be fine for the night."

"See, Anni? Lady Blade is on top of things. You can't escape that easily," Seamus took it upon himself to dump a healthy portion of wine into her goblet, "No reason for you to not sit and get drunk with us."

"I think I'd have to work pretty hard to catch up with you, Seamus."

"A game? Great, let's get started."

Aine shook her head with a smile. Delphine looked on the verge of arguing and Esbern watched in amusement.

"Have fun with that," She said before Delphine could cut in, "But High Hrothgar is a ways away and we'll need to be sharp."

" _You_ will need to be," Delphine replied rather sharply and Aine looked at her in surprise, "The Greybeards are your responsibility and we don't want anything to do with them apart from that."

Aine exchanged a glance with Seamus and he gave her a shrug.

"You really do have a problem with them, huh?"

"I haven't made that a secret. It's up to you, Aine. The Blades have nothing to do with the Greybeards."

It was Aine's turn for a shrug. She took a sip of wine and glanced at Seamus again.

"What about you? Any problems with the Greybeards?"

He grinned and lifted his mug.

"Ages old fortress with generations of collected treasures? Sounds right up my alley."

"And given her vehemence, I don't think even Delphine will fight you on that."

* * *

Snow moved in overnight and fell softly against Lettie and Tal's manes and Aine and Seamus' hoods. They had found a path leading out of the thick wall that barricaded the rear of the Temple. Aine had been curious and Seamus followed without protest. It was narrow and somewhat overgrown, but it wound down the mountain, curving primarily to the south and east, which was what she wanted. It finally ended somewhat abruptly against a rock wall and Aine was just about to - very reluctantly - turn back up the path when Seamus gave a crow of triumph.

She turned in time to watch as he pulled a rusted chain in the wall. It was suspended from a stone carved with the Dragonborn symbol. The snow had settled onto it, making it faint and obscure. But the mechanism still worked and with a loud grinding, a small section of wall slid into a pocket in the ground, reminding Aine of Bleak Falls Barrow.

"Good eye," She congratulated as they crossed into a dark passage. Seamus struck his flint and lit one of the torches from his pack, "I thought we were screwed."

"You really expected me to admit defeat, just like that? Come on, Anni, you know better."

The passage wasn't long and they found this lever much more easily. Aine heard the echoing grating of the door behind them closing and she felt a bit of relief. She knew it was rather foolish, but she had worried about Delphine and Esbern's safety and now to see how well the place was protected, she let that go.

Considering the path put them out north of Rorikstead, Aine made the decision to follow the eastern road and approach Ivarstead from the north. Her recent 'gatherings' had left her with quite the small fortune and she rented them rooms at a small village inn on the first night.

"Extravagant."

Aine lifted her shoulders and nudged one of the plates closer to Seamus.

"At these prices, just a drop in the bucket."

Seamus cocked his head at her.

"Must be nice."

She allowed a rather self-deprecating smile and pushed her food around her plate.

"Well, Percival took care of what Meara and I had accumulated and it's rather nice to have some freedom in that department again. Besides, I really didn't want to sleep on the ground and this solved that issue."

He looked at her with a rather searching expression and she felt on edge, though that wasn't what he intended.

"You have some plan for him, Aine. Can you tell me what it is?"

She dropped her eyes and considered how to answer that question. Quite honestly, she just _didn't_ want to, but he deserved more than that. He had made it obvious that he wasn't going anywhere and it was only a matter of time before this came up. Her own mind wasn't entirely made up when it came to Percival, not yet anyway. She just knew that she had to find him and demand the truth. Whatever came next… well, she was sure she'd figure it out.

"I want to find him, Seamus. I have to know what happened. That night… I thought he was dead and to hear that he's not only still alive, but seems untouched? It tears at me and I need to know why."

Seamus hadn't dropped his gaze from her face and he cocked his head, studying her so thoroughly she felt her skin prick. It wasn't like him; Seamus was the happy one, the one that didn't take anything seriously, and this gravity was far too intense. He reached out and put one hand gently over hers.

"I'm sorry, Aine. You and Meara… well, you know that friendship inside-out and I can't imagine how you felt losing her like that. I should've seen that you need some closure and not brought the whole thing up. But either way I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"I can't ask you that, Seamus, as much as I appreciate that. I really can't. There's nothing in you putting yourself in danger just because I want closure. Really-"

"You don't believe you're the only one that wants it? I may have been over the top, but Kerry was - she was incredible. I joked about jumping her as soon as Civ showed signs of straying, but… I meant it. I'd have done anything for her," He abruptly pulled his hand back and rested it beside his plate, lifting his shoulders, "She was one in a million and I'll never forget her."

Aine softened and this time didn't care how obvious that emotion would be. She considered what she could say here, how she could tell him that Meara had no idea what she was missing, that he would have been a thousand times better for her friend - never mind how much Meara had cared for Percival - how he would find another girl to love him and make him happy. But she didn't, because it was pointless. Instead, she lifted her mug and gave him a small smile.

"To Meara."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there and enjoy!

* * *

"Hang on a minute, Seamus, I need to ask this man something."

Aine slid from Lettie, taking hold of her reins and hurrying after Klimmek's departing back. He turned when he heard her approach and blinked in the rain and snow mix for a moment before he recognized her. A smile creased his face and he gave her a nod.

"Well, hello."

"Hello, just thought I'd ask you if there's anything to take up to the Greybeards. I have to make the trek again."

His expression brightened and he waved one hand.

"Perfect, thanks, Aine. Come on over to the house and I'll grab the bag," He cast a glance over the mounts as Seamus came closer, "And let me keep the horses for you. It's the least I could do."

"I appreciate that and this is Seamus. Seamus, Klimmek."

She ignored the arched brows look Seamus gave her, already knowing how out of character this sudden thoughtfulness was and not ready to have that discussion. Klimmek brought the bag of goods out to her and took over the care of Lettie and Tal.

"Oh, and you don't have to worry about that damn frost troll anymore," He offered as he started around the corner of his house, "A few of the guards and huntsmen here stepped up and got rid of it. But even so, be careful."

Aine gave him a wave, hoisted the bag, and started back across the bridge. She felt Seamus' glance when he fell in beside her.

"That was - different."

"He needed help last time and since I was heading up to High Hrothgar anyway, I offered. It's the same this time. Come on, I don't feel like climbing the path when it's dark."

"I'm beginning to doubt I ever knew you."

"That makes two of us."

Seamus chuckled and they continued up the steps in companionable silence. As they climbed, snow replaced the rain completely and the only animals were a few goats and the odd hare or two that darted across the path well ahead of them. There were only three other hikers and these were on their way down as Seamus and Aine climbed and they made it to Hrothgar just before darkness fell. Seamus studied the place in awe and Aine kept him moving up the steps to the door. Like the previous trip, the door clicked open before she had the chance to knock. She led the way through the dark interior and followed the sounds of cutlery to a long dining room where the Greybeards were gathered.

Arngeir was not surprised to see her. He stood from the head of the table and beckoned with one hand. Aine made her way to him, feeling Seamus close behind.

"Sky above, Voice within, Ysmir."

Aine blinked and then nodded. She slipped the bag of goods from her shoulder and held it out.

"Supplies for Hrothgar. Klimmek asked me to bring them up for you," She glanced at the others and added, "I'm sorry to interrupt your supper, but I have questions for you."

"Come, sit, Ysmir," Arngeir waved his hand at the table and one of the other Greybeards disappeared for a moment, returning with two plates and extra cutlery, "And your companion as well. We will discuss your concerns afterward."

Aine hesitated, but Seamus plopped himself down and began dishing up a healthy portion. She sighed and gave the Greybeard another nod.

"Fair enough," She took the chair beside Seamus and Arngeir settled himself again as well, "This is Seamus, by the way. Seamus, the Greybeards."

"Any companion of Ysmir is welcome here."

"Great, food's delicious, by the way."

Aine shook her head and poured herself a glass of beautiful red wine. She didn't have much of an appetite and the rest of the meal was rather awkward. Arngeir spoke occasionally, but the others answered in whispers in a language she didn't know. Seamus was himself, making the usual sarcastic comments and trying to lighten the mood. He attempted to keep Aine's goblet full, but she finally took it in one hand and leaned back in her chair, keeping it out of his reach. As soon as Arngeir's plate was empty, he got to his feet. Aine immediately followed, this time allowing a refill when the old man beckoned to her.

"Wonderful to visit with you fellows," Seamus said in a jaunty voice, "Absolutely sparkling conversation, I'll never forget it."

"Seamus."

Aine spoke sharply, catching Arngeir's swift look over his shoulder. Seamus bowed and took the bottle of wine before trailing Aine. She was half-tempted to tell him to put it back, but Arngeir didn't say anything and had now disappeared through a doorway. They met in the same study-office she had seen before and she threw Seamus a warning look when he let out a quiet whistle of appreciation for the contents. Arngeir settled himself behind the desk and neatly stacked an already orderly pile of papers. His dark eyes met Aine's.

"Are you having trouble, Ysmir?"

Aine took a sip of wine and shrugged her shoulders.

"Not necessarily. It's more like we're at a standstill, unless you can help. I need to know what Shout was used to defeat Alduin."

For the first time Arngeir's calm wavered. His hands pressed tightly against his desk and he straightened considerably. His eyes never left Aine's face and they flickered for a moment. Seamus' rustling through the shelves went ignored.

"How did you know about that? Who told you such a Shout existed?"

Aine studied him as she considered that. Her curiousity piqued with her temper and she remembered how venomous Delphine had been about the Greybeards. Their feud or whatever it was still amused her and she finally settled on testing Arngeir. Hell, she'd been tested since the whole damn thing started and this was merely comeuppance, and a really small one at that.

"It was recorded on Alduin's Wall."

Arngeir's eyes actually flashed and he knocked the recently arranged papers askew when he stood rather abruptly. He began pacing and Aine was pleased to see it. It made him more human than she ever expected and was rather refreshing.

"The Blades! Does their arrogance know no bounds? They continue to meddle in things they barely understand. Why must they persist in turning the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom? They will use you, Dragonborn; you will be nothing but a tool in their hands. They desire a weapon to continue their destructive ways and now you have given yourself over to them and furthered their aim."

Aine's temper flared and she set down her goblet so it sloshed about.

"At least they haven't kept anything from me," She snapped, _"They_ didn't conceal Alduin's Wall from me, _they_ didn't hide the fact that this dragon can be defeated, _they_ haven't hidden themselves away when the world needs them, so don't start with that argument. How the hell did you expect me to follow this path if you start out keeping secrets?"

Arngeir stopped pacing and faced her. His face was blank again and it merely heated Aine's temper. Seamus had gone still behind them and the Greybeard spread his hands.

"We follow the Way of the Voice, violence is anathema to us. The Blades are always eager for a battle and though they claim to serve the Dragonborn, this is not the case. They will use you, Drago-"

"Aine, my name is Aine, and I'm done with this. Are you going to tell me what the hell Alduin's Wall means or should I stop wasting my time?"

"If I could cut in for a minute? Better take her at her word, Arnie. The little inferno is going to get her way someway or another and it's healthier for everyone if you just go along with her."

Seamus was teasing, but Aine felt the seriousness underneath the words. He had seen her explode several times - he didn't dub her 'inferno' for nothing - and it truly didn't end well. She forced herself to relax her clenched fists and didn't look away from Arngeir.

"You seem determined."

"No shit," She answered quietly and heard the heat in her voice. She took a breath and let it out slowly, pressing her hands to the desk in front of her, "When this first started, I just wanted to get away; I wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of this Dragonborn nonsense. My primary concern was to get out of Skyrim, to get as far from here as possible because - I was hurt. But as it has gone on, as I've… remembered what she has done for me, I can't leave Skyrim knowing fate's chosen me to help her. And now, to hear that you have known all this time that there's a weapon I can use, after running all about the damned place, you have to understand why I'm more than a bit irritated with you. You're stalling me, Arngeir, and I don't have the patience to deal with it. Seamus is _not_ just making noise."

"But to assist the Blades-"

"You're not, you're helping me. What can you tell me about the Shout?"

Arngeir hesitated a moment longer, Aine bit her tongue firmly, and Seamus went back to the shelves. The Greybeard returned to his chair, but didn't sit. He set the papers right a second time and Aine was ready to just sweep her arm across the desk and knock everything to the ground. She fought the urge and Arngeir slowly began.

"The Shout is called 'Dragonrend', but I cannot teach the Words to you. We do not know them and even if we did, we would not use them."

Aine allowed the sharp jab of disappointment and studied the Greybeard.

"I understand, but you know someone that does know it," She got her answer in his sudden sharp glance, "Please, Arngeir, I don't follow this track very often and it's hard for me. If there's something I can do to help the people of Skyrim, which includes the Greybeards, I have to do it. Please?"

"The Words of power were lost before our generation," Arngeir softened only slightly and Aine wondered why she was so pleased to see that she hadn't lost his respect completely, "Perhaps the only ones to know them were those that created them. We cannot know, have no wish to know. But, yes, I can tell you who might have knowledge of Dragonrend: the leader of our order, Paarthurnax."

Aine blinked.

"I thought… I mean, I didn't realize there was a true leader to the Greybeards. I just thought that you were your own entity."

"You were not ready to meet him. You still are not ready, but I do not believe you will listen to this argument. He is the leader of the Order and surpasses all of us in the Way of the Voice. He lives in seclusion at the top of the peak and rarely speaks to us, and never to outsiders."

"Sounds like a charming fellow," Seamus suddenly stood at Aine's elbow and she wondered - briefly - what he had lifted, "Anything else we should know about him?"

"To speak to Paarthurnax is a great privilege and your Voice must be strong to follow the path," He started around the corner of the desk and waved for Aine to follow, "Come, we will teach you the Shout needed to reach the peak."

They followed Arngeir back through the fortress and outside to the courtyard Aine had been introduced to on her first trip. The other Greybeards, as if knowing what it was she had asked of Arngeir, were already there. They stood on the second landing of the flight of steps that led further up the mountainside and a fire crackled merrily in the center of it. The shadows flickered across their faces, making their expressions unreadable, and the swirling snow didn't help matters either. The steps continued up through a large free-standing doorway of sorts and Aine couldn't see much past this. There was a sheet of white, windblown snow blocking the view and she wondered how the weather could be so much worse just yards away.

"I will teach you Clear Skies," Arngeir's voice broke Aine's concentration and she looked over at him, "It will assist you in reaching the summit."

He spoke softly, away from her, and the runes shimmered in the snow. She felt that same warmth seep through her and met Arngeir's gaze.

"This is the last gift you will receive from us, Dr-Ysmir, and I must tell you that you have to approach Paarthurnax alone. Your companion must stay here."

"Now wait a minute-"

"I understand," Aine interrupted Seamus' exclamation and turned to him, "Come on, Seamus, it'll be fine. Just hang out here, finish your bottle of wine, and I'll be back."

"Anni-"

"Clear Skies is only temporary, Ysmir," It was Arngeir interrupting him this time and Seamus' eyes flashed, "Take care in using it. The mist will subside, but you must keep moving."

"Yeah, this sounds like a brilliant idea. Aine, you're a damned fool if you think I'm letting you do this after that warning."

"Seamus, stay here. If you coming along keeps me from meeting this Paarthurnax, I'm throwing you off the peak. I'll be fine. No more."

She added the last when his lips parted and turned abruptly to the steps. Without another word, she started up and used her new Shout. The mist faded and she moved forward without hesitation. This path clung to the side of the peak, the drop back down threatening to make her dizzy if she studied it too much. Luckily, the need to focus on her Shout helped with this. The mist slowly crept back in, stinging her skin, sucking her breath from her lips, and sapping at her strength. She Shouted again, feeling the tug at her power, but she found that she had the needed strength just as the mist wrapped around her. It was exhausting, keeping her pace up the snowy path and Shouting when she had to, but she wasn't about to abandon this opportunity.

The ground began leveling out after what felt like an eternity and she started looking for another fortress like High Hrothgar. She crossed between the last stone wall of the peak itself and the clutch of boulders that framed the path. The top of the mountain was fairly even and broad, and through the snow ahead she spotted a large stone slab that made her think of Bleak Falls again. Something told her that she no longer needed the Shout and she stepped carefully into snowy space. The wind still pulled at her and her eyes continued looking about for a shelter where this Paarthurnax might be living. So far there was nothing and she took another few cautious steps forward.

There was no warning _swoosh_ of wings; she just glanced over her shoulder at the path she had followed and when she looked back, the dragon was there. Muttering a string of curses under her breath, she frantically pulled her bow from her back and fumbled for an arrow when the thing spoke.

"Peace, wunduniik, my name is Paarthurnax. What brings you to my strunmah - my mountain?"

Aine blinked and let out a harsh breath, her heart still hammering within her. She slowly pushed the arrow back into the quiver, but didn't have the courage to put her bow away just yet. She grasped it in both hands and held it in front of her, studying the dragon. He was greyish-white at the tips of his back legs and front claws, and the spikes and horns along his back were dark, smoky grey. He looked - aged. His horns were chipped in places, there were tatters in his enormous wings, and the eyes that peered down at her were ancient and very intelligent. She didn't care for how close he was to her, but she took some comfort in the fact that he hadn't attacked her.

"My name is Aine," She spoke softly, worried her voice would fail her, "The Greybeards told me that you know the Dragonrend Shout. I need to learn this, Alduin is-"

"Drem, patience, volaan. There are formalities when two of the dov meet for the first time."

Aine's head swirled with the strangeness of it all and she stared up at the dragon.

"Dov? I'm sorry… Paarthurnax, I don't understand what that means."

"Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn," He shifted on his powerful legs, turning to face that slab of stone across from them, "By tradition, the elder speaks first. Feel my Thu'um in your bones. Match it if you are truly Dovahkiin."

He bent his large head, his bony chin just above the snow, and Shouted at the wall. Flames erupted from his mouth and Aine stepped swiftly back from the heat. Through the flying snow, she saw the faint gleam of runes, but she didn't like the idea of putting her back to the dragon. She glanced up at him and met that oddly bright gaze. Paarthurnax cocked his head at her, for all the world resembling Seamus when he gave his 'what the hell' look. It made her relax maybe a little and she gave a faint smile.

"Go, dov," His voice rumbled from deep in his chest and he tipped his head at the wall this time, "Why intrude here if not for tinvaak?"

She debated briefly on asking what 'tinvaak' meant, but killed it and instead trudged through the snow to the wall, tucking her bow away. Her vision grew blurry as it had in Bleak Falls, her legs shaking, and she kept close to one side of the wall for support. It wasn't as intense as the first, but it wasn't pleasant either and she could only hold out hope that she wouldn't collapse near this dragon and present a very easy meal.

"A gift for you, Dovahkiin. Yol, to understand fire as dov do."

Paarthurnax's voice was close and she turned abruptly, putting one hand to the freezing stone when her head whirled. She let out a trembling breath and pressed the fingers of her free hand to the bridge of her nose. The power slowly retreated from her fingertips and toes to her heart and she waited another moment before pushing from the wall.

"All right," She said, blinking up at him through the snow. Here beside the stone, there was some protection and she decided to take advantage, "Now what?"

"Now show me what you are. Greet me as dovah, not as woman."

She arched her brows. Shouting at a dragon, even one that claimed alliance, seemed a _really_ bad idea.

"I don't-"

"Do not be afraid. Faasnu. Show me the power of your Thu'um."

"Don't be afraid? That advice means very little coming from a dragon."

Paarthurnax merely tipped his head at her and she let out another breath. She stepped back a little and closed her eyes, focusing on that power. Like the Whirlwind Sprint, all Aine had to do was open her mouth and the right Shout erupted from her. Tendrils of power swept outward, transforming into flames a mere foot from her body. These flew at Paarthurnax, surrounding his face, flashing up around his horns in bright orange and yellow. She could just make out his eyes through the fire. He had them closed, almost as if he enjoyed the flames' dance across his head. The fire blinked out a moment later and Paarthurnax gazed down at her.

"Sossedov los mul. It is long since I have had the pleasure of speaking to my own kind. You are strong in the dragon blood," He moved a little closer - something Aine could have gone without - and lowered his head to be more on her level, "So, joor - mortal - you have succeeded in reaching me. What is it you desire?"

"As I said, I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. It may be the only way to defeat Alduin and the Greybeards thought that perhaps you might know it."

"Prodah. You would not travel all this way for tinvaak with an old dragon, no. You desire a weapon against Alduin."

"I want whatever help you can give me," Aine hesitated. She had a difficult time getting over that desire to call him 'sir' or at least use some term of respect, but she had no idea what you called a dragon other than: 'shit, look at that'. She had to add something, "Please."

"Alduin komeyt tiid. Alduin and Dovahkiin return together, that is why you come here. But I cannot know the Thu'um. Krosis."

Aine was starting to get used to the way Paarthurnax mixed his dragon language in with the common tongue and she rather liked it. He was wise and seemed indulgent of humans and she felt herself relax a bit more. He wanted to teach and though she could do with a change of venue, she had to roll with this.

"You can't know it? Because of what it does to dragons?"

If a dragon could look impressed, Paarthurnax just about managed.

"Your kind - joarre - created this as a weapon against dov. Our hadrimme - our minds cannot conceive or comprehend the concept. Yes, dovah, that is why I cannot know it."

She gave him a slow nod, retreating to sit on a protrusion of rock at the base of the wall after she swept the snow clear. Paarthurnax edged closer to her, his chin practically on the snow now, and this time, she didn't mind all that much. He was not the threat here.

"That makes sense. I don't think I'd want to learn a curse that could kill me or render me helpless either," She absently rubbed at her left shoulder, the one that had taken the brunt of it when Seamus fell at Karthspire, and it twinged in this cold air. Her eyes went back up to him and she realized all of the sudden that, though night had fallen, she could still see everything here clearly. It wasn't moonlight, not with the weather being as it was, and it was not a far-fetched thing to believe Paarthurnax himself made this happen. She shook herself, "Is there anything I can do? Is there anyway to learn the Shout? If Alduin goes unchallenged-"

"Drem, dovah. All is not hopeless. Will you answer me first? Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

Aine looked at him in utter surprise, rethinking her previous conclusion of him being wise and clever. She studied the horny face, seeing old scars criss-cross over his snout, and knew he was no one's fool. He knew precisely what he was asking and she bit back her smart-ass response. Her thoughts flew instantly to Meara and Percival and she shoved that away; Paarthurnax wouldn't care. That was petty to him, just revenge, he wanted something deeper. Aine considered this. She wanted Percival, that hadn't changed, but even she had to admit that wasn't the only driving force here. The idea of standing by and doing nothing while the world was destroyed, especially considering she had the power to stop it, was unthinkable and it struck her. Seamus himself had tried to remind her that they were not the 'hero' types, they were entirely selfish, and to empathize here was telling. She was lost and knew it.

"Alduin is called the world-eater, right? Well, I may not have chosen this, but I am Dragonborn. I have the power to stop him and I can't stand by. Skyrim is my home and I won't allow the innocent be destroyed. As long as I am able, I'll fight him. It's the only option."

"Very noble, dovah, admirable. But perhaps this world is the egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Can you really stand in the way of the birth of the next age?"

Aine lifted her shoulders.

"Very philosophical, but rather pointless right now. This age is mine, the innocence I spoke of include those that may influence the next, so this argument will just go around and around in circles. The ones I can protect now will have to worry about whatever the next age might bring."

"Paaz. A fair answer," He tipped his head, "Ro fus. You may bring balance to those forces working to quicken the end of your world. Even those of us who ride the current of Time cannot see past its end. Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who attempt to hasten the end may delay it; those who attempt to delay it may hasten it."

She could see the simple brilliance in that and she smiled a little.

"You sound tired, Paarthurnax. You have ridden 'Time's currents' for a while, then?"

"Indeed, dovah, sometimes too long. But you have indulged my desire for speech long enough. Krosis. I will now answer your question. Do you know why I have chosen to live here on Monavhen - your Throat of the World? This is the place where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad. I believe none but me knows how he was defeated. However - viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated. If he had been, you would not be here now seeking to destroy him. The Nords of old used Dragonrend to cripple him, but it was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Elder Scroll that sent him adrift on the currents of Time."

"Adrift? You mean he was - suspended? He's just been floating around waiting for his chance?"

"Krosis. You understand, dovah. The Nords believed they sent him forward in time and there were those that trusted he may be lost forever. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time continues to flow and he would resurface. This is why I remained. I knew he would return, where he would return, but not when he would return."

Aine's head was spinning again and she held up one hand.

"Wait. You knew _where_ , but not _when_? So what you're saying is the ancient Nords - what, destroyed time? How is that possible?"

"With the Kel - the Elder Scroll. If you were to bring the Kel back here to the Tiid-Ahraan, this time-wound… With the Kel used to destroy time, you may be able to cast yourself back to the other end of the break. And once you are there-"

"I can learn the Shout from those that created it," Aine interrupted slowly and sat straight. She nodded her head and looked up at the dragon, "You don't know where I could find that, by chance?"

"Krosis, I cannot. I have little knowledge of what has passed below while I lived here. Considering the paths you have followed as dovah, you are better informed than I."

"That's not saying much."

"Follow your blood, it will not fail you."

Aine stood and stepped closer. She tentatively reached out with one hand and waited. Paarthurnax lowered his head even more and she pressed her palm to the space between his broad nostrils. His scales were cold and somehow mobile. She spread her fingers and felt his age and power flow through her fingertips. From this spot, she could only look into one of those ancient eyes and she smiled more fully.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Paarthurnax, but your help has been… indispensable. Thank you."

Paarthurnax nudge her hand and closed his eyes in a long blink as though bowing.

"And your patience with my speeches is… wonderful. Fellow dov, return. Our kind are fading and we must pass on what we know."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** On time this week! And let me apologize again to those who dislike discrepancies in the story of the game. I really like Brynjolf and wanted to include him a bit more and went with it. Hope everyone is well and you are all enjoying the summer!

* * *

"I still can't believe you sent her up to face a _dragon_ alone."

It was the second time Seamus made the comment and Aine was almost rather pleased to see Arngeir look frustrated.

"He is the master of our Order. If I had believed for a moment that Ysmir's life was endangered, I would not have sent her. Paarthurnax seeks to keep the world safe; he does not attack unprovoked."

"That's enough. I made it up there, I heard what he had to share with me, and now I'm back here again," Aine took another sip of wine and edged closer to the warmth of the fire. She had gotten so chilled up on the mountain and she was not willing to let herself get sick. Seamus dropped beside her and Arngeir met her gaze, "So what do you think about the Elder Scroll? Paarthurnax called it a Kel, but I think that's a broad term. Do you have any idea what Elder Scroll he means?"

"I do not. There are many references to Elder Scrolls in the history of the world, but do not be discouraged. I know of an Orc working in the libraries of College of Winterhold. His name is Urag gro-Shub and is an excellent, if rather unusual, resource. I know it is a journey, yet we cannot shrink from what must be done."

"We? I like the inclusion there, Arngeir, funny how that works," Aine stretched her fingers in the heat and talking before Seamus could make any smart remarks about the true oddity of an Orc in such a role, "Thanks for the help. We'll bed down here by the fire, if you don't mind, and leave at first light."

"We have rooms, Ysmir, you do not have to-"

"Truly, it's fine," She sent him a smile, "I'm cold and this is warm. Though, Seamus, if you want-"

"Nah, I'm good."

He lifted the bottle of wine in a toast to Arngeir and the Greybeard wished them both good night. Aine actually slept better than she ever thought she would and she shook Seamus awake in the dark stillness of dawn. He grumbled a little, but they gathered up their things - she was positive he took a few extra from Arngeir - and departed without seeing any of the Greybeards. The trip down the mountain went fairly smooth, the snow had stopped at least, and Ivarstead had just started the business day when they arrived. Klimmek was feeding Tal and Lettie and he greeted them warmly. Aine chatted with him for a little while, but Arngeir had had a point: Winterhold was a journey and she was ready to get started. They were leaving town when someone called her name.

She turned about on Lettie's saddle and frowned at the man approaching her. He was tall and lean, strands of dark hair just visible under his cap, and his eyes glittered in the morning light when he looked up at her.

"You don't remember me? I guess it was rather dark in those tunnels."

She blinked and then it hit her. Allowing a smile, she slid from Lettie's saddle and extended her hand.

"Etienne," She greeted, "I guess it must have been. What are you doing here? I thought you were heading for Riften? Oh, this is Seamus. Seamus, this is Etienne. We met at - Elenwen's party."

"Ah, good times," Seamus shook Etienne's hand, not leaving Tal, "What brings you here?"

"Actually, I was looking for Aine," Etienne turned back to her while she frowned, "I thought I'd have to hoof it all the way to Riverwood. That's where Brynjolf said you'd be, so I'm more than a bit pleased to see you here."

Aine straightened and fixed her eyes on Etienne's face.

"That was quick."

"The word comes from me, that's why," Etienne answered Seamus easily and arched his brows at Aine, "You okay discussing this out here?"

"It's fine. What did you hear?"

"You already know that I was dodging the Imperials and others on my way to Riften and I had my work cut out for me. There were quite a few patrols on the roads around Solitude, which I guess is no surprise, and one night I had to dive off the road and hunker down in the brush. The patrol didn't just move on, it was pretty late, and they hung about for a while. I didn't want to get involved in anything else and stayed put. They talked about a new man, Percival, that was making headway in the ranks. The name didn't mean anything to me until I got in touch with Brynjolf and he mentioned it. He said that you were keeping an eye out for the man and asked me to get the news to Hod and Gerdur."

"Do you remember exactly what they were talking about? I mean other than the fact that he was moving up?"

"There was something about it being a good idea to have a man that was good with locks and one of the others talked about the use of some of the contacts. That one also said that it was a shame he was so far north with some trouble brewing in the east. I don't know what that means."

"That sounds like Civ," Seamus' eyes found Aine's and he gave her a level look, "Any idea where in the north?"

"They didn't say. One of them got off on a tangent about whatever the hell's happening in the east and I kind of lost interest," Etienne shrugged and his expression turned apologetic, "Sorry I don't have more."

"No, no, this is fine," Aine had twisted Lettie's reins around her fingers so that she was almost losing feeling and she looked down at her hand as she untangled them, "It gives me a starting point and solidifies what I already suspected. Thanks, Etienne, I appreciate it."

"Wait up, Aine, I have something else," He dug through his pockets when she glanced up at him again, her brows arched. He finally found what he was looking for and handed it over, "From Brynjolf. I don't know why he couldn't just give me the message since I was delivering the other one in person anyway."

Aine's frown deepened and Percival was put second for the moment. She broke the seal marked with a criss-crossed axe and halberd and unfolded the letter. Brynjolf's hand was heavy, rather spiky, and clearly he had had something of an education.

 _Lass, I told you nothing's free. I'm calling in that favor a bit early, timing is everything here. Hopefully Etienne finds you before Riverwood, but if he doesn't, we'll make do. Remember what I said about Riften? Well, there's someone else that needs the reminder and we need you to help with that. Meet us near the mill off the south road at Lake Honrich when you can, we'll be there every day until you do. And remember, lass, we're only as good as our word._

She felt the intended jab of that last comment, no matter how she wanted to ignore it. That was the bald truth in this line of work. If you said you were going to do a job, you were going to do it. Unless, of course, the buyer or seller turned out to be a worthless piece of shit. This, however, was the Thieves Guild asking and Aine felt trapped. Her temper began to heat and she let out a quick breath. She couldn't take this out on Etienne; he clearly didn't know what Brynjolf had asked and since it was written and not oral, she knew that he wasn't supposed to know what the message was. Her old nature urged her to just forget it and follow through with her own plans, but that little voice kept harping: _Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild_ , and she couldn't ignore it. They would make her life a living hell, make it impossible for her to work anywhere else, and she just didn't want to deal with that on top of… everything.

"I hate people," She muttered and handed the letter up to Seamus while looking back at Etienne. He watched her with a confused frown and she shook her head a bit, forcing a smile, "Not you, sorry. Really, I owe you one. Thanks again."

"You got it. I'm going to stop in at the inn before I move on. Take care of yourself, Aine."

He nodded to Seamus who looked down at Aine.

"Well."

"Well," She fiddled with Lettie's reins again and studied the northern road. Her internal debate raged rather fiercely, both sides making very valid arguments and wearing her out. Seamus shifted in his saddle, but wisely didn't say anything and she finally let out a sigh and swung herself back onto the horse, "Let's get to Riften. I'm not adding the Guild to the rest of my problems."

"Seems like you are."

She shrugged off his teasing words.

"You know what I mean," Nodding to the letter in his hand, she added, "Burn that, would you?"

Seamus steered Tal close to the stone pillar that marked the beginning of town. He dropped Brynjolf's letter into the bowl of embers that served as a beacon at night and waited for it to burn completely. He gave Aine a crooked grin.

"Just like old times."

She snorted. He was right and had no idea how much this was the kind of thing she had been so eager to avoid. Riften wasn't too far from Ivarstead and they approached the mill by mid-afternoon. The lumber mill seemed to have fallen on hard times; it didn't have nearly the bustle of Hod's. There were a few piles of logs and a handful of assistants went half-heartedly about their work. Aine and Seamus earned a couple of glances when they rode through, but none of the workers approached when they slid from the saddles and loitered near one end of the mill.

Clouds piled high in the sky and promised more snow and Aine wondered what the hell she was doing. At the moment, it felt like she was just wasting precious time that could be spent on the road getting to Winterhold. She had no guarantee that Alduin wouldn't make a move while she waited around for a meaningless task from an entirely self-centered Guild. They wouldn't have made the sacrifice that she was making, not a chance, and yet here she was. Her annoyance built as that Meara-like voice whispered she couldn't make that judgement, and that she knew better. She shoved it away, no matter the truth in those words. It didn't matter that some of the best people she had ever known belonged to her profession; right now the only thing that scrolled through her head was that some of her people were wasting her day.

"Calm down, little inferno. Think of the pay-off instead."

She glanced at Seamus who gave her a knowing grin and cocked his head. He leaned against a straight, white-barked birch and spun a twig between his fingers. She grudgingly gave him a smile, realizing she had been pacing back and forth, spinning the silver ring on her finger with her thumb. It was an old twitch, one that served as a warning sign to those who knew her well enough to watch for it, and she wasn't at all surprised he spotted it.

"What pay-off?" She spread her hands and still smiled, "Favor for a favor, remember?"

"Doesn't mean you can't skim. Really, I'd be disappointed if you didn't, lass."

Brynjolf and Vex materialized behind from behind Tal and Lettie who grazed in front of Seamus and Aine. Now that she was standing and not seated at a table in a dank reservoir, Aine saw why Seamus flirted so shamelessly with the Imperial girl. She was small, shorter than Aine, and very pretty. Brynjolf's smile had a decided mischievous twist and he watched Aine with pleasure.

"You think I'd tell you if I did? No need to give you the chance to take whatever I lift as further payment, right?"

"Indeed, lass. I have to say I'm impressed you're so prompt getting here. I had a feeling you'd skip out or take your sweet time; time we don't have."

"You got lucky. If Etienne had been five minutes later, we would have been on the road to Winterhold. I certainly wouldn't have skipped out, but you would've had to wait a while."

"Luck's good news," Brynjolf returned and his voice was a bit more serious. Vex sent him a look that made Aine frown and the Nord spoke before either of them could, "We've been lacking it lately, so let's hope you can keep that up."

Vex shook her head and took a step forward.

"We're safe enough talking here. Let's get started."

"Right," Brynjolf stepped forward and crouched, pulling a few rolls of parchment from one of his pockets, "Here's what we have. Aringoth, the owner of Goldenglow Estate, has decided to go - freelance. He's had an arrangement with Maven Black-Briar for years and all of the sudden, he's not following through with his end of the deal. Maven makes it possible for the Thieves Guild to continue our operations in Skyrim," He paused when Vex shifted and then lifted his shoulders, "For the time being, anyway. And she wants a message sent to Aringoth loud and clear."

Aine exchanged a quick glance with Seamus, but he seemed as confused as she was by the enigmatic comments and movements. She considered asking what that meant and changed her mind, turning her attention to the parchments instead. Vex moved closer.

"These are drawings of the estate," She spoke in her usual abrupt fashion, her fingers moving across the pages, "Don't try the doors, you won't get through. Here's an entrance to the sewers and basements; the door isn't guarded, but I'd be willing to bet anything it'll have a serious lock on it."

"So I'm breaking in I take it?"

"You're quick. What gave it away?"

Aine arched her brows and looked at Brynjolf who nudged Vex hard enough to knock her off balance.

"Just because you couldn't manage it, Vex, doesn't mean you take it out on someone who might," He said and though his words were biting, there was a warmth that eased the sting, "Not that I blame you. We're lucky you made it out in the condition you were in. But now we're making this sound really unappealing to our new friends."

"Because I was certainly all in before," Aine spoke drily and Seamus chuckled, "What else do you have?"

"The idea is to burn a few of the estate's bee hives and clean out Aringoth's safe," Brynjolf indicated the papers again, "We've had the place under surveillance for a time and the guards heavily patrol the outside, but from what we've heard, the inside is minimal. The master is a paranoid little Elf and he thinks he's barricaded himself well enough he doesn't have to worry about it. We aim to prove him wrong."

"You make it sound so simple," Seamus cut in and leveled his gaze on Brynjolf, "This is asking a hell of a lot, Jolf. All _we_ asked was the whereabouts for some crazy old man. You didn't even have to go into the depths with us. How does this-"

Aine put her hand on Seamus' arm, cutting him short and earning a surprised glance.

"Take it easy; losing your temper and blowing up is my thing, remember?" She smiled at his disbelief, "Really, Seamus, it's okay. Besides, this makes sense to me. Brynjolf and the rest did tell me where Percival was last, as far as they knew, but they're still going to be keeping an ear to the ground and getting word to me if anything changes. Right?"

Vex actually grinned at that and relaxed a bit while Brynjolf frowned briefly and then shook his head with grudging admiration. He gave Aine a winning smile.

"Pretty shrewd, lass, I have to say."

"Well, Brynjolf, you either get smart or don't last long at all in our line of work."

"Or life, for that matter," He studied her and then gave a nod, "All right, then we're agreed. Like I said, clean out the safe, skim whatever you want, and burn a few of the hives. Make it three; Aringoth still needs a way to pay Maven and we can't take that away from him all at once."

Aine leaned closer, studying the layout of the estate. The sewers looked extensive, but it seemed they opened into a kitchen which could be good or bad, depending on the staff. After that, it looked like the hallways surrounded the main rooms and there were at least three floors.

"Where's the safe?"

"Here," Vex pointed one slender finger at a corner room, "Second floor. It's behind a locked gate and when I was there last, two men patrolled those halls. Brynjolf's right, though, the men inside are much more relaxed than those outside and I was able to to make it at least inside before I… before everything went to hell."

"How long ago was that? Has it made them more paranoid?"

Brynjolf and Vex exchanged a look and Aine sat back on her heels, not liking that. Seamus arched his brows.

"That's a yes. How bad is it?"

"Well, it's the outside that's more difficult. We know the tunnel's not guarded, just locked, and the interior is truly clear," Vex spoke more slowly this time and then lifted her shoulders, "Getting to the trapdoor is the problem. I'd recommend waiting until nightfall. The door is here," She pointed to a small circle on the drawings, "And from what we've gathered, that side of the estate is lonely."

"All right, so in and back out again through the trapdoor. What about the hives?"

Brynjolf turned the papers and lined two up together before tapping his finger against one of them.

"Here, it's a smaller island connected to the larger by a bridge that's out of the question; too much activity. You actually won't be able to approach it from the estate-side at all. But on the opposite side, there's a fence set into a wall of large boulders. Luckily for us, one end of the fence had to be built right against the rocks and someone could climb up those boulders and pull themselves up over the top."

"As long as no one's watching."

Brynjolf waved his hand at Seamus.

"Well, there is that, but again, nightfall."

Aine let out a sigh and pressed her fingers to the space between her eyebrows. She was beginning to regret her comments to Seamus about this deal. The pressure to reach Winterhold burned in the back of her mind and she worked hard to push it away.

"This is sounding like a really lousy way to spend the evening."

"Well, lass-"

"I know, I'm not backing out," Aine ignored Seamus' mock-exasperated sigh, "Any recommendation on what to do until it's dark enough?"

"Drink."

Seamus proceeded to pull out a bottle of very fine old whiskey that Aine suspected had come from High Hrothgar, but she wasn't about to scold him now. They sat in the shelter of the trees and enjoyed Brynjolf and Vex's company as the day grew long. Brynjolf and Seamus did most of the entertaining while Vex and Aine sat back and enjoyed the show. The workers in the yard didn't seem to think it at all odd that four people sat around under the trees in the occasional rain-snow showers, and went about their work as though nothing was amiss.

Aine kept the bottle from Seamus when the shadows dissolved into deepening dusk. She knew he was just as capable - if not more so - rather tipsy than almost anyone who was entirely sober, but he tended to become more unpredictable and over the top than usual; and given that the nature of this job was to keep up concealment, she was giving herself as much of an advantage as possible. They wandered to the lake shore under Vex's guidance when it was truly dark and Aine wrapped her arrows while the Imperial spoke.

"It's straight ahead from here. The door is set into the ground with a stone frame and the lock is on the lake-side," Her eyes glittered in the very faint light, "I can't recommend your order here, whether you want to ignite the hives first and sneak in in the confusion or save it as an encore, but be careful. And we'll get your horses to Riften for you."

"Thanks," Aine eyed the small waves lapping the shore and let out a sigh, "I'm not looking forward to this swim. And, Seamus, I think we should split up. No, hear me out. You're improving, but I think it's best if I break into the house and clear the safe. One is a lot less noticeable than two. I'll signal you when I'm clear and you can ignite the hives before we get the hell out of there."

"Anni, don't be ridiculous. You'll need-"

"Trust me, it's better this way. You're handier with that flint than I am and I'm better sneaking than you. Let's play to our strengths and get this over with."

Brynjolf watched this exchange with interest and Vex nodded in agreement with Aine.

"She's got a point, Hady, and I don't think you're going to talk her out of it."

"You think I don't know that?" Seamus muttered and then sighed, "All right, Aine, let's get going."

"The hive is to the east, Hady," Brynjolf offered, "You'll see it against the light of the torches."

"Get going, you two, before someone comes along and gets more suspicious than the assistants here."

They heeded Aine's words, gathered the horses, and disappeared into the night.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** On time again, hurrah! Enjoy all and Happy Independence Day!

* * *

Aine and Seamus faced the water and Aine took the first step. The lake was freezing, but she kept trudging forward, worried she'd lose heart if she slowed. Seamus muttered quietly behind her and she was just about to turn and shut him up when the lake floor suddenly disappeared under her feet and she was submerged. The cold shock knocked the breath from her lungs and she broke to the surface, trying to keep silent. Her teeth threatened to chatter and her arms refused to obey her. She steeled herself and waved an already numb hand at Seamus when he whispered her name. She swam for the dark hulk of the island, moving her arms and legs under the water to prevent splashing. Seamus had gone silent and she half-worried he succumbed, but then she felt the brush of his fingers against hers. It seemed an eternity before her feet finally hit solid ground again and she fought the urge to run forward out of the icy lake. She eased to the shore, clenching her teeth against the shivers so that her jaw ached. After a few small splashes, Seamus trailed her.

They moved into the long grass on this side of the estate, the windows here dark and silent. Faintly, Aine could hear the voices of the guards on the island and she almost fell flat on her face when she tripped on the trapdoor. Seamus caught her elbow and held her steady; she wasn't sure if it was his shivering or hers that she could feel in her arms. She crouched and fumbled for the leather case which housed her lock picking tools. Her fingers were trembling and she almost snapped one of the picks in half before she finally managed the lock. Seamus had watched her with a rather worried expression and now he leaned close.

"You sure you're going to be okay?"

"O-of course," She stilled her voice and took what should have been a calming breath, "You're the one that'll be outside. Are you?"

"You know me, always a party," He touched her arm and gave her a stern look, "Be careful."

"You too. Watch for two flashes and count ten seconds between them. Good luck."

Aine dropped into the sewers beneath the estate and Seamus closed the lid silently over her. She crouched for a moment, hearing water trickle, and wishing she couldn't smell whatever that was. She stood in a dim tunnel on a walkway that followed along the sewer itself and she unwrapped her arrows before easing ahead. The fletchings were wet and she brushed them through her fingers to knock some of the water from them. So far, Vex and Brynjolf were right. The tunnels were empty and she found herself in the kitchen pantry without trouble. The door into the kitchen itself was pushed just to and she listened at it before heading in. The place was quiet and empty and she hurried forward.

One door led into the dining room where she could hear soft conversation and the other door opened on one of the hallways. There was a man bent over a table at one end and she tiptoed in the opposite direction. The place was as extensive as it looked on Brynjolf's papers and though she had a few _very_ close calls, Aine managed to make it to the second floor. She remained crouched in a dark corner and listened for the sound of patrolling guards. There were a few sets of booted footsteps and she waited for them to fade before leaving the protection of her spot. The hallway stretched ahead of her and she heard the sound of steps coming closer. Ducking into the doorway of the nearest room, she kept one careful eye on the sharp turn in the hall. She didn't see anyone emerge, but she heard the sounds retreat again and took her opportunity. Hurrying down the hall, she ducked into the second door when the steps idled her way a second time. The layout of the place came back to her and, naturally, the safe was in the corner furthest from her.

When she had the chance, she carefully peeked around the corner. The man was walking away from her and she saw that there was absolutely no way to get around him. She went back to the doorway and listened for any sounds within. The guard's return made that a bit difficult and she waited a moment longer before taking refuge opposite the handle and pushing the door open. There was no immediate sound of alarm and she peered into the crack at the hinges. She couldn't make out much, just pieces of dim shapes. No sound came from the now open door and she took a breath and a leap.

She slipped into the room and immediately dropped to a crouch, pulling the door just to behind her. She could hear the soft snoring now and she held her breath. It crossed her mind as odd that the master here would keep rooms for his guards upstairs and then she remembered what Brynjolf had said about him being paranoid. At the other side of the large room, she could see the soft gleam underneath another door and she took another silent breath before heading that way. There were at least two men sleeping in here, that she could see, but she saw large shadows of screens that probably hid more of them. The door in the other wall posed the same problem; she hated that she didn't know what was on the other side. She listened again and heard a few settling sounds, but nothing to cause her alarm and she repeated her process. This time, she was greeted by voices. There was a soft grunt of surprise and she drew back sharply into the shadows.

"Hey, Penn, did you push the door open?"

There was a brief silence and a second voice answered.

"No, it's this damned old house. Every door pops open when the weather shifts a degree one way or the other. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Should I swing it shut again?"

"Nah, they'll have to get up soon anyway, might as well get started. Leave it."

She heard footsteps walk away and the creak of a wooden chair. Slowly, very slowly easing forward, she risked a look and saw a shape sitting at a small wooden table at the far right side of the hall. There was no sign of the second and she slipped back into the dark of the room, considering how to do this. There was the quiet sound of pacing and it suddenly dawned on her that this was the man that she heard from the other hallway. Her mind raced. It was too risky, trying to take out the one sitting without being seen. Not to kill him, that wouldn't do anyone any good; just to knock him out with one of her darts. She gave it some more thought and then silently tiptoed back to the far door.

Her fingers slipped into the pouches at her belt and she drew out a smaller version of those exploding stones she'd used that night that seemed ages ago now. These merely produced a sound, no explosion or lights, and she listened for the steps to approach before she tossed the things into the far end of the hall, back towards the first floor staircase. She aimed for an oil lamp on a small table and actually managed to hit it and knock it sideways. Her goal was to make it look like an accident and for one horrible moment, she worried she was going to light the damn place on fire, but the flames flickered out quickly and she heard the soft curse of the guard and quick footsteps. She drew back and hurried to the other door, peeking out. The guard at the desk had gotten to his feet and stepped just out of sight and she took the chance.

She slipped down the hall, keeping to the shadows, and waiting for a shout of alarm. There was none and she slid around the next corner. This one was clear and she spotted only a couple of doors here. One was closed tightly and the other hung open a few inches. She pressed herself against the wall as she approached this one and she listened. There were a few shifting sounds of someone settling and she waged a fierce debate on whether or not to close the door. She finally decided against it and slipped to the far wall before moving on. She could see the gate across the entrance to the safe-room and she silently pulled her lock picking tools loose once more. Crouching, keeping an ear out for sounds of any investigation after her use of those little stones, she went to work on the gate. It didn't take long to unlock it and she knelt in front of the large, heavy safe.

This was more of a challenge. The first two lock picks snapped after the lightest pressure and she worried the sound would draw attention. The third bent and shuddered in her hand, but she got the door unlocked; though the pick would never be useful again. She opened the well-oiled safe door and, in the dim light, saw a few bags of gold and a pile of papers with 'Goldenglow Meadary' or 'Aringoth Estate' scrawled across the top. She secured two of the leather bags to her belt and quietly opened the last. It was nearly full and she thought a moment before pulling out a small handful and stacking it neatly in the middle of the shelf after nudging the papers out of her way. The top layer of parchment slid against the wall of the safe and she caught the words 'bill' and 'sale' in the poor light. Her curiousity piqued and she tucked the last bag away and pulled the paper loose. There were two still stuck together with a bit of a wax seal and at the top of one were the words 'Goldenglow Bill of Sale' with an odd stamp underneath it. It was a simplistic dagger piercing a sphere and she had never seen anything like it before. She stayed in her crouch and read the document.

 _Aringoth,_

 _This document acknowledges the sale of Goldenglow Estate and all property, assets and materials contained within. Payment of the property has been made in full by Gulum-Ei as an agent on behalf of the buyer. All dealings with the Thieves Guild in Riften are to cease immediately. To deter any possible retribution for this act, you are to take immediate steps to protect our assets in any way you see fit. I think you'll find that the Thieves Guild is far more bark than bite and will likely avoid Goldenglow Estate rather than thin their already dwindling numbers._

 _Good luck and may this be the start of a long and lucrative partnership._

 _This deed signifies ownership of Goldenglow Estate to the undersigned. This includes all property, livestock, resources, buildings and staff. Ownership may only be transferred with an accompanying Bill of Sale._

The same identifying mark or coat of arms was at the bottom of the second page, but there were no signatures. _Well, that explains the stop in payments_. She thought and folded the papers briskly, tucking them into her belt as well. She swung the safe door closed and looked at it pensively for a moment, thinking of Percival - rather unwillingly. He had had a knack for locking doors or safes again and she had never been able to figure out how he had done it. It would be very useful here, but there was nothing for it. She slipped out of the room and swung the gate shut and then froze.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Aine slowly straightened from her crouch and met the fiery gaze of the Altmer that stood further down the hall, flanked by two guards who had their weapons drawn. She mentally cursed at her slip while reading that bill of sale and then thought quickly, dipping one hand into a pouch on her belt that rested slightly behind her hip. She forced herself to a steadiness she really didn't feel and lifted her shoulders.

"Just a curious patron. I heard the Goldenglow was for sale and thought maybe I'd invest in a meadery," She fingered the small pottery balls and mentally retraced her steps. The trapdoor to the sewers should be just a little to the left and below the window at her back and, though she didn't relish her plan, she didn't have much of a choice. She could only hope that Aringoth hadn't alerted his men outside; the only way it'd work is if her sewer entrance remained unguarded, "It is rather lovely here."

"Indeed," Aringoth spoke with all the arrogance of the Altmer race, "I had no idea the Thieves Guild was trending to real estate. Though perhaps I should not be surprised. The sewers, fitting for your people, must grow old."

Aine bit back the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue and instead allowed a small smile. She took a half-step back and stopped when one of the guards raised his blade.

"Yes, well, I suppose you do what you can with what you have."

"I agree, and that fits here," He motioned to his men, "Now, if you will take your hand from behind your back, we will get this over with."

"Certainly."

Aine pulled her pottery tricks from the pack and smashed them against the floor. Thick smoke immediately erupted from the small explosion. Aringoth cursed and the guards blundered forward so quickly that she didn't have time to think about what she was doing. Which was probably a good thing. She turned and yanked her cloak around to cover her face before diving through the window. Glass shattered and she turned in mid-air to take the brunt of the impact against her shoulder and not her back. She landed hard in the long grass, the sewer entrance a few feet to her left.

The shock of the landing knocked the breath from her lungs and she coughed, unable to move for a moment. Pain radiated from her arm and then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing here. She rolled slowly - painfully - to her feet and cradled her arm to her body. It felt dislocated or broken and she immediately moved closer to the house, not wanting to be seen from the busted window. Her good hand went to her belt again and she had to sacrifice more of her little explosions for Seamus' signal. It was almost impossible for her to wait the ten seconds between flashes and she found that she didn't really need to.

She could hear shouts from the house as well as outside and then she caught a warm orange glow from the east, just as she was about to throw her second signal. The glow grew and more shouts sounded, this time in alarm. She shoved from the house almost dizzy with the pain and stumbled to the lake. The cold shocked her and she struggled to keep quiet as she attempted the swim with one arm. The water actually soothed some of the pain in her shoulder and she had to forcibly keep herself moving when she realized she was stopping to allow the ice cold to numb her arm. She reached the shore and slogged out of the water, falling to her knees several times before she could manage the shelter of brush and trees. Her legs gave out again and she slumped against a tree, not feeling the snow or rain drift down on her, as she turned her attention to the estate.

The hives were clearly burning quite happily and she could see the silhouettes of the guards as they rushed to keep the rest of them from catching. The flames were licking against the wall around the hives themselves when Seamus finally reached her. He was dripping wet and looked exhilarated, his eyes gleaming in the poor light, but he cursed when he saw her. He dropped to his knees beside her and reached out.

"Shit, Anni, I knew I should have gone with you."

He knocked glass from her hair and she vaguely felt the sting as he removed a few splinters from her skin. She cupped her left elbow with her right hand and closed her eyes with a small chuckle that hurt.

"Too little, too late, Seamus. We got it done," She knocked his hands away and had to use the birch behind her to get to her feet, "Let's get back to Brynjolf."

Seamus caught her when she stumbled and kept his arm around her waist.

"Do you have any-"

"They're on Lettie's saddle. Stupid, I know, you don't need to tell me that."

"Very," He muttered and tightened his hold, "Oh, little inferno, you took the brunt of that shit."

"Just like old times?"

She knew she was at the end of her rope; she would never have allowed him to keep hold of her otherwise.

"It's shit, Aine, and you know it. Brynjolf-"

"He'll feel it, Seamus, don't worry. He likes us too much to not."

"You mean you."

"Either way, it works."

They made slow, painful, progress to Riften and didn't have to worry about pursuit; the guards and everyone else were too busy with the fires. The same guard Aine had to - instruct - was watching the gates and he chose not to take advantage of Aine's weakness. Probably after Seamus' rather murderous gaze.

Aine was stopped from going down to the Ratway entrance by Seamus and he pulled her further into town. She tried to set her heels, but her arm hurt and she didn't have the strength. Her thoughts were getting quite cloudy and grey with pain and she wasn't sure how much longer she could manage. Something was dripping into her left eye and she closed it, peering rather comically up at him.

"Seamus-"

"Brynjolf let me in on a secret, Anni, and I'm not about to let you go stumbling through the Ratway in your condition. Just trust me, this is a direct way."

"Do I have a choice?"

Even she could hear the weakness in her voice and she just caught his worried look. His hand tightened against her and he led her into an old graveyard. They wound through the leaning tombstones to a large crypt. Seamus kept her close and reached with one hand to press a faint carving of what looked like a full moon. Nothing happened and then there was the grinding sound of stone against stone and a large slab of marble slid backward, revealing a steep staircase.

Seamus almost had to carry her down the steps and he allowed her to lean against him as he pulled a well-oiled chain hanging near the bottom. There was a lone torch hanging in a sconce here and it burned over a round trapdoor that Seamus had to fumble open with his free hand and then one foot when Aine staggered. Her weakness was alarming even to her now and she wondered how much she was bleeding and where it was coming from. She knew there were at least a few gashes over her eyes which had screwed shut the left, but that wasn't nearly enough to make her feel this way.

The trapdoor opened on a shaft leading straight down with just a ladder and Seamus leaned over it.

"Hey!"

There was silence and Aine was just about to ask him what the problem was when a voice traveled back up.

"Who's there?"

"It's Seamus and Aine. Get Brynjolf for me, I need him. _Now_."

There were no questions asked and Aine could hear, far away and very faint, the footsteps hurry away. She tipped her head against Seamus' shoulder and sighed, closing her eyes. She felt him stiffen under her and turn his head.

"Anni?"

"Hmm?"

"Hang on for me, huh? We're about there."

"Sure, Seamus, whatever you want," She burrowed her head into his shoulder, wondering what she was agreeing to, and let her hand fall from her wounded arm. Pain stabbed her and throbbed dully and she frowned, "Ouch, that kinda sucked."

"Aine? Anni?"

Seamus was further away than the steps and she barely registered his concern. She tried to lift her head, but it was entirely too heavy and she instead let out another hum of interrogation. She didn't hear what he had to say and while she was passed down the ladder to strong, gentle arms, that grey deepened into black and she let herself fall fully into it.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Hello, back again! Here's the next installment and I wish you all the best. And, alas, Skyrim is still not mine.

* * *

Aine heard the argument through a murky brown of unconsciousness. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked up at the stone ceiling above her. One arm was bound and secured close to her chest and there was a dull throb of pain in her left side. She turned her head against the pillow and a soft voice spoke.

"Easy, lady, you need to rest."

Her eyes landed on a hooded figure seated close to her bed. The features were sharp and Elven, and the pale grey eyes serious and very intelligent. Her small stature made Aine think of the Bosmer, but her head hurt and she pressed her lids closed before looking back up at the ceiling.

"They've been going around and around the same subject for the past hour," Her voice was hoarse and her jaw hurt, "If not more."

"Yes, and yet that does not change my statement. You were successful in your work against the Goldenglow, but you also caused a great deal of trauma to yourself. Please, let them argue."

"Because it's so conducive to resting."

Aine couldn't suppress a groan of pain as she sat up and the Bosmer stood and gently cupped her elbow. She allowed it and thought maybe the woman was right. Everything spun rather crazily and she was so weak she wasn't sure she could even stay upright long enough to tell those pesky debaters to shut up.

"I did attempt to warn you."

"I'm not an idiot, lady. Stubborn, yes, but not an idiot."

"My name is Galathil and I am well aware that you are no fool," The Bosmer's hand was steady and firm on Aine's arm, "However-"

"No use, Galathil, I'm up."

Aine swung her legs off the low cot and waited for a moment, willing the room to steady itself. She could hear Seamus' voice under Brynjolf's and there was a third somewhat nasal one that grated her frayed nerves and _that_ was the one she wanted to silence.

The Elf beside her remained silent, but she could feel her distaste for this change of venue. Taking what should have been a steadying breath, Aine got to her feet and was very glad Galathil hadn't let her go. She must have lost more blood than she realized and this weakness was not something she was used to. It took a moment, but she finally pulled from the Elf's hold and started around the screen.

The room she stood in was large, only slightly smaller than the reservoir that housed the Ragged Flagon. Water rushed into the central pool from several outlets and two stone bridges met in the middle of the cistern forming something of an island. The cistern itself was ringed with multiple wide platforms and there were also three alcoves that looked to hold other doorways - along with what she figured had to be the door leading to the Flagon. The outlets that poured water into the cistern were spanned by small, sturdy wood bridges and Aine was more than a little relieved she wouldn't have to cross one of these to reach Seamus and his rather loud crew. They stood off to the left, on the other side of the far screen, and she pressed one hand to the end of it before she found the strength to start their way.

Brynjolf was the only one facing her direction and his eyes sparked when he saw her. He was in the middle of a sentence, but that didn't stop him from looking pointedly at Seamus and then at her again. Seamus immediately glanced over his shoulder and did an abrupt about-face, going to her elbow before Aine had a chance to say a word. The third man, tall and balding, had the look of a well-built man that had let himself go a bit. He was dressed in light, black armor, very finely tailored, and his dark eyes were darker in the poor light of the cistern room. He had curly grey hair that fell against the tops of his shoulders with a severe widows peak and his sharp nose reminded her of a hawk.

"Anni, what are you doing? Trying to kill yourself?"

Seamus' voice was gentle and his arm a welcome support when it encircled her waist. Her stubborn nature almost made her shake him off and then she realized how instinctively she allowed herself to depend on him and she changed her mind. A small sigh escaped her and she let him lead her to a wooden chair near Brynjolf.

"Not sure yet. I think I just wanted to make you guys shut up," She allowed a smile for Brynjolf when he took her other elbow to ease her into the chair. It was unnecessary and she recognized his desire to touch her while refraining from making a stink about it - now was not the time. She winced at the twinge of pain in her back when she shifted her weight and then her eyes met the third man's and she repeated her words to Galathil, "It wasn't exactly conducive to a restful sleep. Hello, I'm Aine."

"Sleep? More like absolute exhaustion."

"Not to mention blood loss. Really, lass, you shouldn't-"

"And I am Mercer Frey, Guildmaster of this organization, and I believe that we owe you thanks for what you have done for us."

"Believe?"

Seamus and Aine repeated the word in unison and Brynjolf rolled his pale eyes, his powerful arms folded across his chest.

"Come on, Mercer, get off it. Aine and Hady did what was asked and you know well enough we owe them big time. Drop the act."

Aine let out a snort of laughter and instantly regretted it. Pain stabbed through her left side and she let out a breath, pressing her good hand to her eyes when they closed against the throbbing. Seamus' hand went to her shoulder and she shook her head.

"I - I'm fine," Her voice was weak and she straightened away from his grip, "And you're welcome. I don't know if Seamus would have gone through my pack or not, but there are some papers that you should see if he didn't."

Seamus looked at her in something like surprise which answered her question. She started to her feet and her body protested wildly. Her breath escaped, along with her strength, and she sat down rather suddenly. Brynjolf brushed her arm and Seamus sank to a crouch beside her.

"Easy, lass. Where is everything? I'll get it."

"I actually couldn't tell you. Maybe quiz your Galathil?"

Brynjolf gave her a nod and headed to her screened off corner. Aine felt Frey's look, but she ignored him, closing her eyes and concentrating on pushing her pain aside. Seamus stayed where he was and a minute later, Brynjolf headed back. He carried Aine's entire belt with him and he handed it over. She looked at it in surprise and just then realized she didn't have it on. Letting out a little smile, she straightened and draped the belt over her lap. Her fingers fumbled clumsily over the buckle of the pouch before she finally got it and she pulled loose the rather damp papers. Brynjolf was standing near her elbow and she instinctively handed them up to him. He gave her a rather self-deprecating smile and passed them to Frey. Aine blinked and wondered why she felt that knee-jerk desire to yank them from the older man's hands.

Frey stepped away from them and unfolded the notes. He read in silence and then handed them back to Brynjolf. The Nord took his time reading while Frey turned his attention to Aine.

"Do you recognize that sign?"

"No, I've never seen it. I was thinking that you would know."

"Gulum-Ei, Mercer," Brynjolf cut in, "That's something at least. I'll send word to the contacts in Solitude, see what we can find."

"Or we could-"

"Don't even bother," Aine found a certain strength in her voice that made her absurdly pleased. She met Frey's gaze, "I'm not going back to Solitude. Seamus and I have to get to Winterhold and we've been held up long enough. So, please, don't bother."

Frey looked ready to argue and Seamus touched Aine's arm.

"You sure you're ready, Anni? You took an awful tumble and you look like hell."

"Will Al- _he_ wait? No, Seamus, we have to stick to the course. Lettie will take care of me."

Frey and Brynjolf watched this with interest and Aine had no intention of going into detail. She gathered what strength she had and got to her feet. Seamus was beside her.

"Lass, you-"

"I know and you have my sincere thanks, Brynjolf, but we have to keep moving. Whatever you three were arguing about before I woke up, it's going to have to wait," She spared a brief glance at Frey, wondering again why she didn't like him. Hell, she just met the man, "Or you'll have to find someone else. Good luck with that."

She got gingerly to her feet while the men watched her in silence. Her free hand played along the length of her belt and she glanced over at Brynjolf. He arched his brows.

"Something wrong, lass?"

"You missed the paperwork, but had the time to take the haul, good job," She looped the belt around her waist, catching the free end with her bad elbow and holding it in place while she struggle with the buckle. Seamus would have helped, she knew, but she hated asking, "You'll do fine, luck or not."

"And you're certain of that, Aine? I thank you for the confidence, but I have to say that I'm not convinced."

Aine glanced at Frey and lifted her shoulders with a wince. She really couldn't bring herself to care, but she found herself hating to say that in front of Brynjolf.

"You will," She said firmly and ignored the sudden look Seamus gave her, "Our expertise will never be wanting and work will always have to be done. If this helps in any way, even with Black-Briar - who seems somewhat foreboding from what I understand - you'll do fine. Things will get better."

"I'm afraid that I can't be that optimistic."

"Stop trying to guilt-trip her, Mercer," Brynjolf spoke mildly and Aine got that 'things-are-okay-but-not-really' feeling for the fourth or fifth time, "It's not going to work and Hady won't be convinced so long as he's tied to her belt loops."

Aine sent a quizzical look at Seamus.

"Belt loops?"

"Tied?"

"All right, we're done then," Frey spoke into the brief silence that followed Seamus and Aine's words and he waved one hand at the alcove opposite them, "You're free to go and not speak to anyone of this secret access to our-"

"I know how it works," Aine waved her own hand at the guildmaster, "Secrets are everything to us and you can bet I don't treat that lightly. Thank you for your help and I wish you all the best."

"Just know you're leaving your own, Aine. If you can live with yourself after hearing that, gods be with you."

Aine paused a moment, her temper slowly beginning to smoulder. She felt a million different smart responses clamoring to escape and instead she tipped a smile and extended one hand. Her dislike was suddenly justified and that was all she needed.

"Take care, Mercer Frey, you'll need it."

* * *

"Lass, hold a minute."

Aine turned around to arch her brows at Brynjolf. She and Seamus took their time packing up everything and getting some last minute advice/reprimands from Galathil. What could barely be considered reprimands, honestly. The Elf was used to having her word taken as absolute and she seemed a little put out that it wasn't this time… kind of. Her cool command had chilled a shade more, but she didn't stop Aine from leaving her care and Aine herself wasn't entirely sure Galathil would have been able to.

"What, Jolf? Don't want to miss out on the opportunity to freeze your ass off in Winterhold?"

Brynjolf ignored Seamus and fixed his attention on Aine. He came a little closer and she cocked her head at him, wondering at the sudden unsure look in his face; the Nord was no more the type to show a weakness than his colleague Galathil. Even Seamus sobered up.

"Don't take Mercer's words to heart, yeah? He's been… pretty preoccupied lately."

"Did you really think I would?"

"Well, you can never tell, I guess," Brynjolf glanced around at the deserted cemetery and the action heightened Aine's already fairly frayed nerves, "Truth be told, he's not favored among the Guild at the moment. Our luck's run out and he's getting the blame, and-"

"Brynjolf, I really don't need to-"

"But you do, Aine, you've involved yourself - willing or not - enough in our affairs, you do need to hear this. He's not what he was and the Guild is starting to mumble about taking action against him. An action he won't stand for," Brynjolf looked uncharacteristically serious and not even Seamus had a smart answer for him, "He's getting desperate and lashing out; not surprising, if you ask me."

Aine felt her strength disappearing in a rapid fashion she didn't like and she shifted her weight with a wince and sigh that sound like exhaustion itself. Seamus stepped a fraction closer and she spread her good hand, speaking before he could.

"I just don't understand why you're asking, or rather telling me."

"It's a warning, lass. Don't be the least bit surprised if you hear from him in Winterhold about further help. You deserve that at the very least for what you've done. I couldn't really warn you in front of him, but I couldn't let you leave without playing the part of a sort of… precursor."

Aine actually found herself smiling in spite of her pain. She shook her head a bit and gave the Nord a nod.

"Fair enough. Thanks, Brynjolf, and I don't suppose you'll give me any advice on what to tell him if he does corner me in Winterhold?"

"Like you'd listen to it. Take care, Aine, and you too, Hady. I have a feeling we'll see each other again far too soon."

Brynjolf turned and disappeared back into the darkness of the cistern's secret entrance before either of them had a chance to respond, and Seamus looked down at Aine with a bemused smile.

"Well, if that's vague enough for you, can we finally get going?"

"I've been waiting to hear that for hours."

They passed through Riften and gathered Lettie and Tal from the stables. The morning was grey and drear, matching how Aine's body felt. Word had bustled through town about the fire at Goldenglow and she was more than a little eager to escape notice.

They made good time, in spite of the weather, and the horses were clearly ready for the exercise. It was going to be a trek to Winterhold and Aine sprang for an inn the first night. It was well into the night when they finally stopped and she had to steel herself before slipping from Lettie's saddle. Her strength had disappeared about twenty to twenty-five miles ago and she staggered, her hands fumbling for a hold on the stirrup.

"Whoa, whoa, little inferno," Seamus' voice was tense and soft when he caught her, "Take it easy, I've got you."

Aine let out a sigh and winced when she straightened. Her arm was throbbing, her back stiff and sore, and she could feel a dampness in the bandages swathed across her left side. She didn't let go of him and felt his worry like a tangible thing.

"It's fine-"

"It's not, don't bullshit me. You're not ready for this, Anni, and don't argue," Seamus waved one hand at the boy that came out to assist, "Take the horses, I've got her. Let's get you inside."

Aine wasn't given the chance to protest. Seamus ushered her up the steps and took over procuring them rooms. The proprietor's daughter, a curvy girl with a mass of curling red hair, led them down the hall to adjoining rooms. Even in the midst of his worry over her, Aine noted that Seamus could still spare a winning smile for the girl which made her flush and set her bright blue eyes glowing. He ordered two ales be brought to them and she disappeared rather reluctantly.

"Very smooth, Seamus," She said dryly, hissing at the protest when he eased her down into one of the chairs in the cozy room, "It's somehow reassuring to see how little changes."

"Well, what can you do when you're as blessed as I am?" Seamus responded in something like a knee-jerk way and he pulled the other chair closer, nudging her elbow up and trying to get a look at her rib-cage, "How's that wound?"

"Leave me alone for a minute and I'll take a look."

"And not tell me," He nodded in understanding when he got back to his feet. His shrug and resigned look were rather endearing, "I'm not an idiot, Aine; a little dense, yes, absolutely, but not an idiot. And I know you. Are you hungry?"

Aine felt the intended sting of the words and debated arguing before her exhaustion won the debate raging within her.

"I actually am. The ale sounds very enticing," As if her words summoned her, the girl came back in with two brimming mugs and left again with another coy look at Seamus. Aine couldn't help the chuckle as she raised her mug to him, "But food would be a great idea. And whatever you order will be fine. I don't feel like being in company tonight."

Seamus left with a nod and pulled the door closed behind him. Aine took a deep draught of the surprisingly fine ale and put her mug beside Seamus' on the table. She had to gather her strength before she started undressing. Everything hurt and she realized now the show of 'everything is fine, don't worry' had been as much for her as for everyone else. Her weakness was incredibly disheartening. She managed to strip down to her linen shirt and leggings and she tipped the mirror of the dresser into the light so she could see the damage to her side when she had the bandages clear. A soft breath escaped her and Galathil's reluctance suddenly made sense.

Her left rib-cage and waist was a mess of thick purple and red intersecting slashes. Most of the smaller ones had been healed through magic, their vividness slowly fading, but the rest were stitched together and the subtle movements - even in Lettie's saddle - had caused the bleeding and irritation. Aine was frozen for a moment, thinking back to Goldenglow and that damned window. Yanking the cloak over her head had saved her face, but left her body open to the shards of glass that found a way to disfigure through the buckle side of her armor. Seamus always hated that she wore a breastplate that came apart and now she knew why, though before she had never taken his worries seriously. She turned her attention to the damage again, wondering how the hell she had kept it together to get away from the estate now that she saw exactly what she had done to herself.

She traced the shape of one of the smaller cuts with one finger and felt unexpected tears spring to her eyes. Her rational side told her to quit it and simply bind up what would cause a problem, but exhaustion was a funny thing and it allowed her often ignored and often demeaned 'soft' side to rule. She had never considered herself attractive enough to garner attention and now she wondered how anyone could look at her and find beauty in such a damaged frame. _Particularly Ralof…_

Her shirt fell to cover the ugliness and she studied her worn and pale face in the spotted glass, dismissing that thought with difficulty. She looked critically at the new scratches across her left cheek, the old jagged scar under her right eye, the dark red hair that lost its vibrancy thanks to this current onslaught. It slipped from its crude knot, curls hanging lank against her neck. Her pale eyes were larger than ever in her sharp face, bright with unfamiliar tears and almost terrifying in their hungry expression.

She saw that her reflection mirrored - pun intended - her state of mind and she lifted her chin, swiping angrily at the escaped tears, and straightened her shoulders despite the new stabs of pain it brought it about. Her old nature, the one that abhorred weakness, had suddenly taken a firm hold of her and she welcomed it with open arms. And damn whatever damage that was going to do to her psyche.

She was freshly bandaged and one ale down by the time Seamus returned with two steaming bowls of stew and several slices of a thick, crusty bread. He put the bowls down, eyed her mug and then turned his attention to her. She watched his brows arch up a bit and had to give him credit: he recognized more than she ever would believe.

"You okay?"

"I am. I think that beer was the best thing for me."

"You want another?"

"Are you buying?"

That searching look deepened and she met him stare for stare.

"Sure. If you buy mine."

She grinned before she could help it. That was more like it.

"Deal."

They had polished off another couple rounds and most of the bread and stew when Seamus started in.

"I think we need to reevaluate here, Anni."

"Reevaluate?"

"You can't keep this up and don't argue with me. You put up a good facade, my old girl, but you can't hide everything from me and you're absolutely done in tonight. I won't hear any protests, we're getting a carriage tomorrow and going onward in style."

"Seamus-"

"Uh-huh, like I said, no arguments; I'm deaf to them. And I don't know what you did while I was getting our supper here, but it doesn't fool me. You look like your old self for the most part, but you're still done and it was only a day. You can't expect to make good time? Be honest with me, little inferno."

Aine parted her lips and then pressed them closed. She studied Seamus with a frank, open expression that he didn't shy away from. He was truly much more astute than she remembered.

"And what about the cost?"

He snorted in derision and dumped more ale into her mug. They had forgotten any pretense whatsoever and asked the girl - June - to bring them a pitcher of the stuff. She would have protested, but it soothed her hurt much more effectively than anything else and she welcomed the healthy buzz that it had brought about.

"I call bullshit again. I helped you pack, remember? And Brynjolf was a lot more generous than that piece of work Frey was going to be. We could stop now and retire to live comfortably for about five years on what you've - skimmed, right?"

Aine rolled her eyes, took up the mug and sat back rather gingerly. Her look of fleeting pain brought a small frown to Seamus' boyish face and she pressed on without considering that too deeply. The last thing she wanted was to be pecked by her mother hen.

"And we'll need it by the time this is finished. Really, Seamus-"

"Stop it, I won't listen. We're getting a carriage and that's that."

"Buzz kill."

"I don't think even I could do that tonight, Anni, not to you," He gave her a level look and she gave him a one shouldered shrug, mindful of the tenderness of her slung arm. He didn't look exactly sober himself, but that was neither here nor there; she was too far gone to care, "And I'm glad of it. You needed this."

"And so did you, I imagine. Take care, Seamus, you beggar me and it'll be hell to pay."

"I look forward to it, old girl, and you have no idea how much."

A companionable silence fell and then Aine couldn't help asking.

"What do you make of Brynjolf's 'warning'? I still don't quite know what he meant when he said their luck has run out and Frey's connected."

Seamus took a drink of his ale and arched his brows over the top of the mug. He cradled it between both hands and thought about that for a moment before venturing an answer.

"Not really sure. I know the Guild has always kept a great store in their 'luck', like he mentioned, but I've never known the details. As to Mercer Frey, I don't know much about the man. He's been a member for a while and the Guildmaster for a number of years, but that was the first I had heard that he's that unpopular," He shrugged, took another drink and tipped his head back against the chair, "But I have to agree with Jolf: that isn't the last we've heard of him. And if the Guild is really serious about removing him, it doesn't surprise me you would be one they'd tell. Hate to break it to you, Anni, but you made quite the impression and Brynjolf isn't one to take that without some serious consideration."

Aine felt her brows arch up dangerously close her hairline and she set her mug against one thigh.

"You mean he's actually grooming me to join them? Gods, if I didn't have enough to worry about already, what with the threat from Alduin, finding the answer to Paarthurnax's - riddle; I don't even want to consider how Delphine and Esbern are going to react to this. And then there's you and - and Ralof. He's always in the back of my mind and he's just the sort to-" She stopped speaking abruptly and took another deep drink. Seamus' direct gaze was too much and she shrugged again, forgetting her wounded arm this time and biting her bottom lip rather hard, "And never mind because I think I'm a little drunk and this conversation is not going nearly how I expected."

Seamus watched her in silence and she didn't drop her gaze from his.

"Tell me about him, Anni," His tone was easy, conversational, and it caught her off-guard, "You haven't looked this way since-"

"And we don't need to talk about _him_ , thank you very much," She interrupted briskly, "That was short-lived and foolhardy in the extreme. Ralof is… different. He's older, his sister lives in Riverwood - actually she and her husband practically run the town - and he was very helpful and-and warm when we escaped from Helgen. He didn't have to help me, but he did. He's a Stormcloak, no love for the Imperial race, and he still was able to see that I was no enemy to him. Or rather, not at all like the enemy he had been fighting," Aine felt her face flush a little and she studied her mug with absorbed interest while Seamus fixed his own gaze on her with a steadiness that was rather unnerving, "He-he welcomed me, Seamus, at a time when I needed it and that… that was _everything_. So I suppose it's safe to say that I feel for him a deep gratitude. And go ahead and tell me that that's all it is, that's okay. The same thoughts have drifted in and out of my head so many times I've lost count and it's more than fair. In my current state, this is easy to mistake for something more and I know it. So, go on, tell me I'm a fool. I won't take offense because I know what I've felt and that's more to me than anything anyone could say."

"And I'm glad for it," Seamus spoke gently and leaned forward, touching her knee in a manner that reminded her of the kiss he gave her outside of Karthspire. He had that same tender, gentle expression and she blinked at him, "You've been alone a long time, Aine, even when Cade was around. And we all know he turned out to be an absolute asshole. You were right to keep him at arms length. And you're even more right to jump at this opportunity. My dear little inferno, you need to be happy, especially after everything that's happened. If that means jumping your Nord friend, then jump him, or let him jump you. You just might enjoy it."

Aine turned a deeper red and she recovered quickly, lifting her mug in a toast.

"To the happy ending, may we both find it."

"Give me five minutes and I'll find it with our June," Seamus sent her a wicked grin and salacious wink that made her laugh and then wince, "To happiness, my Anni, yours and mine."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Yes, I know, I'm late this time around! I'm so, so sorry, and I hope you all are doing fantastic! Take care, enjoy, and have a great week, catalinaD

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Winterhold was dark and grey when Seamus and Aine arrived. The weather was foul, snow flew down thickly and the sun had long ago disappeared into the heavy clouds. The inn was a welcome sight, its windows glowing a warm yellow in the gloom and smoke curling from the stone chimney. Seamus would have gone straight for the door, but Aine took the time to see to the horses when no stable hand appeared. He wouldn't leave her alone and grudgingly followed into the barn.

Aine felt better, her arm still troubled her and the wounds to her left side were healing nicely. It also encouraged her old determination and she wasn't about to hear any of his arguments. Bless the man, he knew it and didn't bother so she had a silent - if reluctant - helper. Lettie and Tal were more than happy to oblige them by bedding down with their grain and straw, and they showed no obstinacy at being stabled after following behind the carriage.

The night was uneventful and Aine got directions to the college from the innkeeper before heading to bed. She roused Seamus early the next morning and they finally ran into trouble with a very stubborn Altmer on the narrow stone bridge that led to the imposing college.

"Good morning," Aine said briskly when the Elf came forward. She expected her to step back, but she didn't move and Aine glanced up into her pale green eyes, "Is there a problem?"

"You are not of the college, I can't admit you."

Aine's lips parted and she heard Seamus' soft snort of disbelief behind her. She shifted her weight and glanced at the sharply pointed roofs stark against the grey sky. Her annoyance spiked at being so close and thwarted like this and she reminded herself to tread carefully. Losing her temper here would not be helpful.

"I only need some counsel and was told that the college would be amenable."

The Altmer shook her blond head and still didn't budge.

"We were harmed by simple requests such as these far too often in the past and I'm afraid we cannot accommodate those without our membership."

Seamus was ready to cut in and Aine tried a different tack. It was probably not the wisest thing to do, confessing this here, but she wasn't sure what else to do.

"Not even for the Dragonborn?"

The Elf blinked and stepped back a little. Aine watched her face flicker with wonder and then doubt, and she suppressed a sigh.

"Anyone could make the claim. Can you prove this?"

Aine lifted her shoulders and tipped her head.

"Well…" She studied the Altmer, "Step back, my lady, unless you want to be scorched."

The Elf reluctantly did as she was bid and Aine shifted herself a bit so she was facing one side of the bridge. She gathered her strength and Shouted. Flames erupted and she had to watch in something like admiration as they extended at least ten feet in front of her, burning bright against the snowy landscape. The Altmer had stepped back in surprise and wonder, and looked at Aine with wide eyes.

"So it's true. You must forgive me, Dragonborn, we cannot be too careful in these times."

Aine almost corrected her, still not liking that title, but didn't bother. She spread her good arm.

"Understood. But is this good enough? Can we enter?"

"The college welcomes the Dragonborn, of course," The Altmer swept her own arm back, "My name is Faralda and I am at your service. Whatever you need, Dragonborn, you have only to speak."

Aine hesitated as Seamus started forward and she met the Elf's gaze.

"My thanks, Faralda, and I do have a request. Please, don't speak too freely of our presence here. It… it might prove to make our progress a bit difficult. I'm sorry, but-"

"Have no fear, Dragonborn, you have my discretion and I will direct the others as well. Gods guide you."

Aine fell into step with Seamus and he nudged her with his elbow. His pale brown eyes were as lively as ever.

"Good show. You think she'll cause trouble?"

"Not intentionally," Aine tugged her scarf closer to her neck when the bitter wind tore at her. The bridge was just wide enough for the two of them to walk side-by-side and the view of the drop below could make anyone dizzy, "Her excitement might prove to be too much, but she's far too invested in helping the Dragonborn to be deliberate in her harm."

The admittance from Faralda was clearly enough for everyone else; they weren't given any further trouble reaching the libraries. The other members of the college directed them to the Orc's domain and Aine looked around the shelves in fascinated wonder. They towered overhead, full of old tomes and stacks of carefully rolled scrolls. The center of the room was sunken in one step and straight ahead stood an imposing desk where more books were stacked. This gro-Shub was nowhere to be seen and Seamus glanced rather conspiratorially down at her.

"What do you think, Aine?"

"I think you had better declare your intent here."

The deep voice came from the depth of the shadows behind the desk and a tall, powerfully built Orc stepped into view. He held another half-dozen tomes in his arms which were set down with near reverence on the patinaed surface. The candlelight threw odd shadows about the room and the high windows let in a useless grey light. The Orc's dark eyes glittered with a rather unnerving intelligence and Aine opted for blunt honesty. He would appreciate nothing less.

"I find myself in need of some help. Can you tell me anything about Elder Scrolls? And what resources do you have available concerning them?"

The Orc looked vaguely surprised and he ran one hand over his short white beard. He glanced at Seamus and dismissed him within seconds, his attention fixing on Aine in a way that she wasn't sure she cared for.

"And what is it you want with an Elder Scroll? That's not a common request."

Aine debated what she wanted to tell him. She looked around the room and met his gaze once more. There was nothing for it; gro-Shub was their contact - _her_ contact, she supposed - and she had to utilize his knowledge. Her normal method of intimidating or bribing would be useless here; her charms, such as they were, amounted to absolutely nothing and she could only be grateful she recognized this. She stepped closer to the desk and leaned one hip against it. It wasn't a show at companionship, she was merely tired and gro-Shub seemed to realize it. He arched his brows at her and his gaze lost a bit of its intensity.

"I have been in contact with Arngeir of the Greybeards concerning this return of the dragons. He seems to believe that an Elder Scroll may help in understanding or maybe stopping these attacks. Can you help?"

It was simplified in the extreme and she tipped her head at Seamus when she heard him shift. He kept quiet and gro-Shub gave her another searching look before stepping around the desk.

"Wait here and don't touch anything," He disappeared into the shelves and returned within minutes, two books in hand, "These are going to be the most helpful, the Greybeards should have the other publications on hand. If not, I'll be severely disappointed in Arngeir. I am willing to help him because he knows the seriousness of that charge more than anyone. You are extended some of this favor because you know him and seem sincere. However, if these books are not returned to me in the state they are currently in, I'll take the price out of your hide. Do you understand?"

Aine had to physically touch Seamus to keep from paying that price _now_ and she nodded once.

"Of course, I would expect nothing less from you, Master Ulag gro-Shub."

"You have the upper-hand with me there, for the time being. I don't know your name."

"It's Aine, and though you don't care, this is Seamus," Aine turned her attention to the books, carefully lifting the top one off the other. The first was Effects of Elder Scrolls authored by a man named Justinius Poluhnius. Its cover was sound and the spine strong, and the lettering inside was not printed, but done by hand in a neat, very even script. She glanced up at the Orc, "Handwritten by the author. I see your reluctance now."

He lifted his shoulders, his gaze unwavering. Aine turned her attention to the other book. It was more worn than Poluhnius' and much narrower, almost like a pamphlet and not a tome. She could just barely make out the title: Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls by Septimus Signus. She opened the cover gently, worried it might tear the spine even more, and balanced it in the fingers of her slung arm. This was also handwritten, but it was haphazard, the words slanting excitedly over the page or cramped around detailed drawings of machinery that made no sense to her. She felt Seamus looking over her shoulder as she attempted to read the spidery scrawl and quickly got confused. She looked up at gro-Shub again.

"I don't… this doesn't make sense. Was this author sane when he wrote it?"

"Not really, but then Septimus has never been wholly sane. However that book is exactly what you are looking for."

Aine frowned, her temper flaring for the first time, and she couldn't keep her impatience from her words.

"Don't play the oracle, sir, I don't have time. Is this man still alive? You know the subject, I have no doubts about that, but sometimes it is best to get the information straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak."

"And I will tell you. Mostly because you recognize the impossibility of that publication without his help," The Orc took the book from Aine with all the tenderness of a father scooping up his child and she realized he was taking a bit of his power back after her sudden, probing questions, "Septimus has made it his life's work to understand these Elder Scrolls, but that comes with a terrible price. It has forever altered his mind. One cannot study them without losing themselves and Septimus was bent enough before he began to lose what little was left and still remain somewhat coherent. He was a member of the college for years until asked to step down when he grew too radical and unpredictable. He retired to an iceberg north of here, directly north, and has continued his studies there. I haven't seen him for some time, but believe me, the world would know if he was no longer with us."

Aine hadn't dropped her gaze from the Orc and she arched her brows. Seamus spoke first and she was unable to keep him from it.

"An iceberg? Really? And you still don't think he's completely crazy?"

"He sought isolation. What better isolation than an iceberg at the end of the world? If you have a map I can mark it for you. The only landmark you'll find is an overturned boat about twenty feet long. Septimus usually goes out and brushes the snow free of it every few days and the bow, which should be visible, is bright blue. It's roughly thirty yards south of the iceberg."

"Will visitors - upset him?"

The Orc took Aine's proffered map and dipped his quill before marking an area directly above Winterhold, as he had said.

"No," He said simply, putting the quill back and blotting the extra ink before folding the map with some expertise, "In truth, you can enter his iceberg and find him in the middle of a conversation. It's an experience talking to him, to say the least. And do not forget the books," gro-Shub had wrapped them both in heavy parchment paper and tied them firmly. He passed the bundle to Aine, "Quote his work to him if his mind begins wandering. It helps to bring him back to the subject."

"Will I be able to tell?"

Aine was only partially serious and gro-Shub's mouth quirked under that white beard. He didn't exactly smile, but she had made a decent impression on him and that was all she could ask for.

"It's difficult to tell sometimes, but I merely wanted to give you something of a weapon in case it's needed. And the ices are a desolate place, take care to mark a path, it's very easy to get lost."

Aine didn't return to the stables for the horses and Seamus didn't question it. The distance wasn't great on the map and there was no guarantee they could get Tal and Lettie safely across the ice anyway. She did, however, detour into the small general goods shop near the inn and bought an armful of their cheapest scarves. She also bought a bundle of kindling from the blacksmith who was outside his shop, feeding his forging fire underneath a heavy canvas. The man had looked at Aine like he thought her a little touched in the head, but she didn't care. She rolled the scarves into a bundle and tucked them under her slung arm and passed the kindling to Seamus who was just as confused as the blacksmith. He followed her down the road and waited until they were out of the town before quizzing her.

"All right, Anni, I give. What's all this about?"

"Think about it, Seamus. Our Orc friend told us it's easy to get lost out there and this will help," She veered away from the road and tested her footing against a tumble of snow covered boulders. They were scattered in such a way and the slope gradual enough, that she figured this was as good a place as any to try for the icy wasteland, "I was hoping for more scarves, but we'll just have to make do. Come on, I think we can get down this way."

She slipped down, sometimes hitting an icy patch under the soft snow, and made it to the bottom of the incline. Seamus dropped beside her and let out a breath.

"Oh, I get it! That's clever."

Aine shook her head a little and decided not to take advantage of that opening. Instead she pressed forward, hoping the snow held off until they found Signus' iceberg. It was more than a little intimidating, looking out across the vast expanse of white that had very little distinctive qualities. She fingered the scarves, wondering if she really should have purchased those blankets she had considered, and then changed her mind. The idea of wandering back into the store so soon grated at her and she felt her stubborn nature winning out. She would make these work.

They passed under the enormous stone bridge leading to the college and it was almost more impressive from this angle than crossing it had been. The supports were sunk deep into the earth and the snow piled high around them. Aine could see large cracks in the ice as they trekked and there were a few areas where these had grown large enough to see the crystal clear water below.

"Oh, yeah, this seems like a great idea," Seamus muttered, steering her away from one of those unstable sections, "Careful, Aine, I'm not crazy about the idea of either one of us becoming icicles."

Aine kept the faint shape of the morning sun to her right and pressed on, sinking a scarf flag each time the one behind her was just visible. They had to veer around more of those open spots, but it was easy enough to keep an almost exact northerly route. More of the sea became visible as they walked and Aine's feet were growing numb when she looked up from her second to last flag and saw a flash of blue.

"Just enough," She said brightly and pointed, "There you are, Seamus, just like gro-Shub told us."

"And about time. I think I'm about to lose some of my fingers."

She gave him a little smile and headed for the partially buried boat. It was hard to tell without direct light from the sun, but if she had to guess it had probably been roughly a few hours since they left Winterhold's town limits. A faint feeling of unease settled on her. This far north, light would disappear much more quickly and she didn't like the idea of being blind in these wastes. Her efforts with the flags would prove to be absolutely worthless.

There were a few more treacherous areas to avoid and then it was a clear path to a large promontory of ice. Aine could see two sconces where torches could be hung flanking a very worn and weather-beaten door. She started for this without hesitation and Seamus trailed after her, still muttering under his breath about frostbite and missing fingers.

Remembering gro-Shub's words, Aine merely pushed the door open and started down a path carved into the ice wall itself. From below the impressively large cavern, they could hear a soft male murmur. It sounded like he was arguing with himself and Aine tugged the books from her pack as she walked. The ties came loose easily and she reached the bottom which housed a few tall bookcases packed completely full, a large fire burning merrily in the center; one corner was devoted to a kitchen nook and another - presumably a bedroom - was screened from view. The footprint of the place was larger than expected and Aine suddenly realized why Signus kept that boat visible. There was a pile of logs for his fire and the shelves for the kitchen were nearly as full as the bookcases. He had someone making deliveries then and wasn't completely in isolation.

The most remarkable thing about the place was a huge cube that looked as though it had long ago been frozen in the ice. It was between two of the cases, right beside a lopsided desk whose one leg was resting against a small hump of ice. The carvings and stone placement were intricate beyond anyone's measure and Aine stared at it for a moment before she realized a man was standing in front of it.

"Master Signus?" She called softly. The man continued muttering and didn't pay any mind. He held a tome in his arms and would occasionally reach out and touch the cube as though his conversation was with it and not himself, "Master Signus, I wonder if you could help us?"

He finally turned to look at them, his orange robes rather incongruous with their surroundings. He was older, perhaps near Esbern's age, though not nearly as well-aged as the Blade. Deep furrows lined his face, his pale eyes were red and watery reminding Aine of Seamus in his skooma withdrawals, and his once tall and willowy frame was bent as though he bore the weight of his mad world on his slim shoulders.

"Ah, my daughter, did you have a question for me?"

Aine blinked and almost started from the beginning and then changed her mind.

"I did, yes, thank you, sir," She felt her own unfamiliarity with this sudden politeness and Seamus' presence didn't help. _You've never been hero material, Aine. None of us have…_ His words echoed back to her and she mentally shook them away. Times had changed, why couldn't she? Her usually heeded, honestly criminal, side muttered something about this being absolute bullshit and she refocused her attention, "Could you tell me, again, of the Elder Scrolls? I don't think I quite understand."

She had deftly stripped his book from its parchment and she let it fall open in her good hand.

"Of course, daughter. What is it that troubles you?"

Aine wondered briefly if Signus truly thought her his daughter or if he was just using that as a title. She didn't allow it to deter her.

"I know there is a connection with Alduin and his defeat, but I can't remember what that is. Could you tell me where I might find that knowledge? Unless I'm mistaken again and you have it here?"

Signus cocked his head and she had her answer: this was the best tack to take. The man believed they were teacher and pupil and to backtrack would only confuse him.

"You know I don't. But if you are that serious, my dear, you know I can give you the means and resources you need," He wandered to one of the shelves and pulled open a closed cabinet door set in its center. Seamus caught sight of the distinctive blue bottles when she did and she tipped her head at him when he let out a little hiss of breath. His recovery stemmed on complete separation from skooma and she wasn't sure how she could keep that a possibility with such questionable informants. Signus continued like there was never an interruption, "Here, the attunement sphere, lexicon, and maps to Alftand and Blackreach. You know you must use that to keep your mind free of any undue influence when dealing with an Elder Scroll. And Alftand is a labyrinth in the best of times; you will need that map."

Aine had to grab these things while rather unprepared and Signus' book hit the icy floor. Seamus stooped for it and gave her the chance to look the sphere and lexicon over. The sphere was about the size of two fists together with a square base and rounded, carved top. The lexicon was smaller, cube-shaped, with very geometric carvings in the corners, a miniature of the huge one beside them, and she frowned.

"Remind me again, sir, what these are used for."

"You must inscribe the lexicon. I am a child when compared with even the lowest of the Dwemer race, but I know enough to tell you that you cannot transcribe any of their writings without an inscribed lexicon. In Alftand, you will find the means to do so. That's why the map, which is self-explanatory, I suppose. And the attunement sphere will give you access to Blackreach and the Tower of Mzark where the Elder Scroll is found. Bring an inscribed lexicon back to me and we will discuss this further. Without that, I cannot help you, daughter."

"Understood," Aine tucked the lexicon and sphere away and almost saluted him with the rolled map. At the last moment, she thought maybe that would break whatever connection she now shared with him and did not press her luck, "Thank you, Master Signus, I will return as soon as I am able."

"Take care, my dear, Alftand can be dangerous."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Hello, hello! Yes, I know, I'm VERY late and a thousand apologies! Life has been quite hectic and I feel AWFUL about how late this update is. I promise to get back on track and hopefully I can keep this up! There's been so much in my life lately and I haven't really had the chance for anything but work and occasional brief moments with the fam. I trust - and hope - everything is going well with my lovely readers and I WILL speak to you soon. Take care, catalinaD

* * *

"Remind me again why they bother?"

Aine spared a quick grin at Seamus' words. She put her bow back over her shoulder, rubbing briefly at the steady ache in her recently unslung arm. Feeling his sudden disapproving look, she dropped her fingers and lifted her other shoulder.

"Human nature, I suppose. I don't think that will ever change. Come on, let's keep moving."

They had reached Alftan late in the day and Aine and Seamus had argued fiercely over continuing into the ruin or starting early the day after. Aine had been for pressing on, but Seamus wouldn't let her and though it got pretty heated for a moment, he won her over. That and her own exhaustion. As retaliation, she got him up earlier than necessary and ushered him to the imposing cliff-built ruin. Bandits had taken up residence and she grudgingly admitted that he was right to talk her out of storming the place in the dark. They had been picked off fairly easily in daylight and Seamus and Aine were well into the caverns now.

The tunnels were dark and dreary, water dripped somewhere steadily in the depths and though the excavations here were definitely recent, the equipment looked like it had been abandoned, covered with at least a few weeks worth of dust. For a time, they continued on in a companionable silence and then the soft murmur of a voice echoed up to them. It reminded Aine of hearing Signus and she put her hand out to slow Seamus.

There was a soft hissing underneath and amongst these words that told Aine it was a Khajiit. He argued with someone named J'zhar and it sounded like they were brothers, or at least related in some fashion. Seamus touched Aine's arm as she continued down.

"Look, Anni," He gestured to the floor, his voice and expression unusually grave, "Is that what I think it is?"

She followed his finger to a dark splatter on the stone. It was not much, but she shared his trepidation. There was a very good chance it was blood and she stepped further, finding more. The Khajiit's voice still sounded and Seamus followed her lead, sinking into a crouch without a word of protest. More spots and splatters of blood were visible in the faint light and at a branching in the tunnels, they found an area where it looked like something had been dragged. Something very like a body.

"I don't-"

"Shh!" Aine hissed, touching Seamus' arm.

The Khajiits' voices had stopped and a shiver ran up Aine's back. The drag marks led into a dark maw of a smaller tunnel while the other branch was the same broad stone path they had followed from the entry. Aine didn't like the look or feel of the smaller path and she edged back as that sense of being watched strengthened. Seamus didn't say her name again, but his hand found her elbow, tugging her gently as they started retreating.

It was too late.

The attack was swift and nearly silent. If they hadn't heard the Khajiits prior to any of this, they would have been killed. With enough forewarning, Seamus was able to push Aine out of the way. She tumbled back with a curse, her arm giving an angry throb and feeling the stitches pull. She kicked with one leg as the Khajiit tangled with Seamus and they rolled into the black.

Seamus' curses and the Khajiit's muttering about 'giving it back' echoed strangely. Aine scrambled to her feet and bolted after them, yanking her knife and axe loose. The darkness was almost absolute, but the two of them made enough noise that she found them without issue. The problem was striking without hitting Seamus and she slowed a bit, blinking her eyes and trying to get them to adjust.

A sudden flash of light on steel caught her eye and she darted forward. The Khajiit was still shouting at Seamus to give him 'it', whatever the 'it' might be, and Aine reached out to pull at his fur. He rounded on her with blinding quickness and she threw up her other blade as his claws dug into her armor. They crashed against the tunnel wall and she couldn't suppress the cry of pain when her shoulder lit.

The Khajiit kept at her, trying for her neck and Seamus' movements were nothing but faint flashes in the dark. He swung something in his hands and the sound of it hitting the Khajiit's head was rather satisfying. He dropped and Aine sagged against the wall until she heard Seamus fall to his knees. Her eyes were somewhat adjusted now and she stepped over the Khajiit's prone body to see to her friend. As she did, those clawed hands caught her boot and yanked. With a grunt, she hit the ground and the Khajiit was on top of her. He had pulled loose his own dagger and she saw it gleam in the light as he raised it over his head.

"You won't!" He hissed, "It's J'darr's and you won't! The lady needs J'darr and he needs her; she has always been mine and you worms won't keep her from me any longer. Her powder is J'darr's and he will have it back!"

There was a moment of stasis where everything seemed wrong and then the blade arced down. Aine steeled herself for the blow, unable to defend against it, and the Khajiit's weight disappeared. She rolled to her heels, knowing she was bleeding, and felt the uselessness in her arm. Seamus was wrestling with J'darr once more and she heard the clatter of the knife when it hit the ground. As she got to her feet, she heard a solid 'thud' and then Seamus' voice.

"Stop, stop, we're not trying to take her," He sounded breathless and almost weak, and she started in his direction. There was another, more gentle, struggle and a second thud, "I'm done with her, I don't want it. We're not here to take anything from you. Calm down, please. Calm down."

Aine was thoroughly confused and she slowed so she wouldn't trip over them. Seamus had J'darr pinned against one wall and his hands were wrapped tight around the other's wrists. The Khajiit was breathing more heavily than him and his enormous gold eyes didn't leave Seamus' face. He looked as desperate as one of the cat race could look and Aine didn't interrupt. Her friend clearly shared some tie with the Khajiit and she wasn't about to blow it for him.

"You have some, then? For J'darr? You have the lady?"

Seamus didn't look away from him.

"I think I do. Will you keep calm and not hurt us while I look? I don't want the lady anymore and whatever I have, I'll give you. Will you stay calm?"

"Yes, yes, calm. J'darr is calm."

J'darr spread his paw-like hands and Aine saw the razor claws sink back into his fingertips. It still seemed as though it was just him and Seamus in the room, and she stepped back against the wall when Seamus eased to his feet. J'darr stood as well and he followed Seamus like a dog when he wandered back toward the light of the other tunnel. She trailed them, lifting J'darr's knife from the ground and slipping it into her belt. She kept her axe in her good hand and held her left arm close to her body, hoping the pain didn't mean too large of a step backward.

"All right, let's check down here," Seamus kept his voice soft and calm, and J'darr hadn't looked away from him. He didn't even seem to realize Aine was following, "There should be some in one of the packs here, huh?"

Aine struggled to keep up with this conversation. A voice murmured in the back of her head that she knew precisely what Seamus was talking about, but the other side of her wanted to put up the blinders and pretend this wasn't happening. And then Seamus kept walking; he didn't go for his pack. Aine blinked and physically bit her tongue to keep the words from bubbling out of her. So he didn't have the skooma on him. She frowned at the back of his head, wondering what the hell he was planning.

They wandered down the next tunnel and found another small branch. There was a lot more blood here and Aine pressed her hand to her mouth when she saw why. The body of another Khajiit lay on a bedroll in one corner of the hollow they found. His throat had been torn open and the bedroll was stiff with dried blood. The smell of death hung heavy in the air and what hit Aine the hardest was how carefully, almost tenderly, this one had been covered. His paws lay on the outside of a bloody blanket and the pillow was fluffed around his head, giving the impression that he merely slept. It seemed this was J'zhar and J'darr confirmed this a moment later.

"Quiet, quiet. J'zhar sleeps, you see? He has not been feeling well."

"Good, that's good. We'll let him sleep then," Seamus lowered his voice and Aine kept to one side of the entrance of the hollow, still watching the exchange with absorbed interest, "Come on, J'darr, there should be some of the lady in one of the packs."

The Khajiit seemed entranced by Seamus and Aine spotted the corner of a leather bound book sticking from a jumble of other debris against the wall she leaned on. She spared a quick glance at Seamus and J'darr who were going through the packs and murmuring quietly, and then stepped forward to tug it loose. She was careful to keep the rest of the items from making too much noise, worried about it disturbing the tenuous peace Seamus had with the Khajiit. The cover was also smeared with dried blood and she opened it gingerly, tolerating the pain in her bad shoulder enough to utilize that hand. It was a journal, after a fashion, and written by J'zhar. His writing was intelligent, full of brotherly concern, and it was clear he had had something of an education. More than could be said of his brother…

She glanced up when Seamus mentioned her name. It was in passing only and she had to fight a shudder when J'darr's glance moved over her. It was nothing but curiousity and though she wasn't crazy about the Khajiit knowing who she was, it was something of a relief to know that he was aware of her now. She turned her attention back to the book and read a few more of the entries, J'darr and Seamus' voices a gentle murmur in the background. Her eyes caught a particular passage and she felt a chill creep into her heart.

"Seamus," She said quietly, matching their murmur with her own. His pale eyes met hers and she motioned with one hand to the journal, "It - might not be any good. I don't think there's any skooma here. Maybe-"

"Aine, no!" Seamus didn't shout, but his voice was firm and authoritative. His attention flashed to J'darr and he reached out with one hand, "It's okay-"

"Skooma? J'darr does not take skooma!"

"No, of course not," Seamus' tone wasn't nearly as soothing as it had been and he grabbed at J'darr's arm again, "She didn't mean that. We're looking for the lady, J'darr, remember? Help me find-"

"No, she thinks me a dreg. Addicted to skooma. J'darr is no addict! He wants the lady and she will keep me from it!"

He yanked from Seamus' hold and threw himself at Aine. She dropped the book and had her axe in hand. The Kahjiit bared his teeth and his claws flashed in the light. Once again everything slowed: Seamus got to his feet, but was too far behind to make a difference, and his voice cracked with emotion when Aine's little axe swung through the air.

"No, Aine, please! J'darr-"

The axe hit the Khajiit in the chest and blood gushed over the sharp blade. J'darr grunted in something like surprise and Aine pulled her weapon back. She watched him warily as he stumbled back, his furry hands pressing against the wound. He looked up at Aine, his gold eyes huge, and then turned and collapsed into Seamus' arms. They staggered and fell and Aine immediately started forward.

The force shouldn't have knocked Seamus so off-balance and she knew something was wrong. Seamus bounced his head off the wall behind him and dropped, and J'darr rolled clear. His hands fell from his chest and he drew one last breath before going still.

Aine went to her knees beside Seamus. She couldn't see any obvious wounds and she leaned forward, ignoring her own pain and touching his cheek.

"Seamus? Seamus, can you hear me?" She dropped her axe as well and cupped the other side of his face. He was breathing deeply, regularly, and his eyelids flickered, "Please, Seamus, can you hear me?"

She reached down to take one of his hands in hers and he came out of it with a sudden harsh breath. Aine fell back onto her butt and exhaled herself. Hers was one of relief as Seamus sat up. He looked at her for a minute and then around the rest of the room. His pale eyes fell on J'darr's prone form and Aine stared in surprise as this took something from him.

He seemed to deflate, to collapse inwardly on himself, and he started forward. Swaying a minute, he stopped and then moved again, crawling rather than trying his feet. Aine eased to her heels, but couldn't bring herself to join him. Instead she watched as he reached out and felt J'darr's furry neck for a pulse. There was another pause and he pressed the Khajiit's eyes closed. He remained still and when he spoke, he didn't look at her.

"You had to say it. You had to _say_ it."

She blinked at him and hissed as she cradled her arm close to her body. Everything hurt again and she felt a stickiness in her left side that wasn't encouraging.

"I'm sorry, Seamus, I don't under-"

"Of course you don't, Bird, you've never been there," His voice was rough and she was taken even more aback at the sound of her last name from him. Seamus didn't use last names unless he was particularly pissed and she couldn't see why he would be, "You've never been an addict; you've never felt that urge. You have no idea what it's like and now he's dead. I could have helped him and you screwed it - completely. Of course you don't understand."

Aine had argued with Seamus before - many times, actually - and though things could get heated, neither one of them had ever been truly _angry_ with the other. And now Seamus was furious and Aine felt her own temper flare, fueled by pain, exhaustion, and the deeply buried knowledge he was right: she didn't understand and never would.

"And that's a bad thing? Come on, Seamus, addicts die everyday, did you really think this one would be different?" Aine waved her hand at the Khajiit, "What could we possibly have learned from him?"

"Saving an addict from himself is suddenly a bad thing? I was making progress, I could have helped him, _helped_ him, Aine. And you destroyed that. He didn't have to die. _This_ addict didn't have to die. You had to say it."

"Why-"

"Stop, I'm done. Leave me alone, I can't do this right now. Aine, please, leave me the hell alone."

Aine's temper heated even more and she got smoothly to her feet after taking her axe up from the floor. She ignored that little voice in the back of her head that told her he had a very valid point and instead fed into her own anger.

"Fine, _Hady_ , you want to be alone, I'll leave you alone. I'm pressing on, do whatever the hell you want."

* * *

Aine's anger fueled her through a few layers of Alftand. Everything led inward and she was still frustrated enough with Seamus that she didn't really see the impressive architecture of the old Dwemer ruin. To be quite honest, she wasn't sure if she would have noticed it anyway. Architecture wasn't something she normally took in unless she could put it to use in her usual jobs.

There were a few Falmer that she had had to dispatch, creatures she hadn't seen outside of books and artwork, but they didn't prove to be too difficult. She wouldn't want to face a horde of them, by any means, but their blindness worked in her favor when dealing with twos and threes. What threw her off were the machines that dropped from huge pipes in the wall.

The first ones were small, spider-like creatures that probably would have crawled right by her if she hadn't instinctively drawn back when she first saw them. She just - _hated_ the way they moved and her fear of spiders didn't help any. They didn't stand much of a chance against her little axe, but the others, the ones on the bright gold spheres, were not nearly as easy. They stood taller than her and even trying to take them out with her bow from a safe distance didn't work. There was no human element and they focused in on her location with a rapidity that was not conducive to concentration on battle.

 _Stop deflecting._ A little voice in her head whispered. It had been trying to make itself heard for quite some time now and she had put up one hell of a fight to ignore it. _You left him there alone._

She waved one hand like she was shooing away an irksome fly. _He wanted to be alone. I gave him what he wanted._

The next room looked like a laboratory of sorts. The workbench was loaded with ingredients and the doorway in the far wall gaped intimidatingly black.

 _What about what_ he _needs? That Khajiit was desperate, he knew there was skooma in that cavern. Do you really believe he won't find it if it's there? He's vulnerable and-_

 _There was no skooma! And he's stronger than that. It was a - a fight and-_

 _And he's vulnerable. How could you leave him? What happens if-_

A screech interrupted that nagging voice and Aine came abruptly to herself. Two Falmer were launching themselves at her from the depths of the next room and she threw up her weapons just in time to ward off the blow. One kept at her while the other veered sharply to the left and came at her again. She dodged as best she could, making the one she fought head on stumble forward. The creatures crashed into one another and Aine let them struggle for a moment, worried she'd do damage to herself if she charged in as well.

One finally lunged for her and she took care of it, whirling to face the second when something stabbed at her left side. She thought it her pulled stitches and she swung her axe at the remaining Falmer. The pain worsened to the point of making the swing almost ineffectual, but the Falmer ducked the wrong way and the blade sank into the creature's neck. It dropped to the stone floor and Aine heard a rather distinct _click._

She dropped to the ground without thinking and rolled out of the direct line of sight from the doorway. The pain increased to a white heat and she exhaled harshly before she could help it. She put one hand to her side and felt the warm stickiness of fresh blood. Her fingers brushed against something hard and round, and she cursed quietly. She sat up and leaned against the wall behind her, keeping her eyes on the doorway. So far the coast was clear and she bit down forcefully on her tongue when she pulled the dart from her side. Blood poured thick and fast and she fumbled through her belt pouches before her hands found something soft.

Her mind wanted to fly back to the trek to Signus' iceberg and she didn't allow it. Instead, she pulled the remaining scarf free of the buckle on the pouch and worked quickly, wrapping it tightly around her waist. There was still no movement from the doorway and she got to her feet, alarmed when the floor tilted drastically under her. Her weapons clicked against the stone wall when she braced herself and more curses ran through her head.

The dart was where she had dropped it and she slowly sank down to take it up again. Her head whirled so it made her sick and she remained in a crouch, tucking away the knife and axe to put a dagger in her free hand. It might prove to be useless, but she wanted to keep that dart, considering she'd been poisoned. She could only hope that she stayed conscious long enough to keep from being easy prey to whatever was in the next room.

She started up and couldn't manage, and heard the beginning shuffling in the dark. Her brain was getting grey and fuzzy about the edges and she had to reevaluate. Allowing the wall to support her, she slipped her fingers through her belt again and found a collection of her little tricks. There weren't many left and she just hoped fiercely that this worked because she was fading.

Gathering what was left of her strength, she lurched to her feet and after a quick inhale, she threw herself forward. There was another _click_ and she felt the breeze of the dart go over her head. She tossed the little stones and in the flash she saw her target. Her dagger followed the stones and as she hit the ground and the grey deepened to black, she saw her own missile glanced off the monster's head and disappear into the dark. Her tricks lost their light and the last thing she saw before she blacked out was the thing's twisted smile as it bore down on her.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Next installment and I hope you all thoroughly enjoy. All the best, catalina

* * *

Someone was trying to force something down her throat and she coughed, putting up her hands to shove it away. Pain radiated and she groaned and then choked, each cough making the pain worse. Hands held her steady and she tried opening her eyes when he spoke.

"Easy, little inferno, easy. You've got to drink this. I didn't go through hell just to lose you to that damn poison."

Aine could do nothing but blink at Seamus' rather drawn face and she obediently opened her mouth. He tipped the potion bottle again and the cough this time was because of the taste. She pushed his hand away when she felt her gorge rising and fought it back. There was only a sip or two left and she finished it before she disentangled herself from Seamus' arms. The room still spun and her body ached like before, but she held Seamus off.

"Give me… a minute."

She was in a corner of the once deep black room and she leaned her back against the wall. It wasn't a large room and there was the usual jumble of abandoned Dwemer tools and artifacts scattered on a few shelves. Seamus had lit a few torches above them and she saw the sprawled body of that monster in the doorway. Another door led even further into Alftand and she too quickly ran out of things to study. Her eyes went back to Seamus reluctantly.

"What happened?" She quizzed, not quite ready for any awkward conversations.

"You about died, Aine… again. You've got to stop it, old girl, I can't do this much longer."

She let out a snort of laughter and winced, her fingers pressing to the scarf still tied around her waist. Seamus looked rough, his eyes were shadowed and his face pale. She gave him a searching look, not really trying to hide it, and couldn't forget that little voice that had whispered those suspicions about skooma. She couldn't believe it; Seamus was serious this time and she - trusted him.

"I didn't think there'd be a next time," She finally answered and found she couldn't really bring her voice above a murmur. The past few weeks had been entirely too long, "Forget that, Seamus, and forgive me. I was too - too impulsive. You were trying to help that… J'darr and I - I… I was myself and that screwed you. I'm sorry."

Seamus let out a sigh and sat on the floor beside her, his shoulder and knee bumping hers. There was a moment of brief silence, and it hurt that it was not companionable like it once was. He steepled his fingers in his lap and studied them.

"I know, Aine, and I shouldn't have kept my methods from you. No, let me finish," He waited until Aine pressed her lips shut before going on, "You're just going to tell me that I didn't have a chance, but that's not true and I'm not going to let you give me a way out, not this time. I had a chance. J'darr gave me multiple chances and I was too invested in helping him to care. I just… I could see… I could see myself in him and I… I wanted to save him because - because _I_ was saved."

"Seamus," She murmured and reached with her free hand to touch his cheek. Her guilt grew and she let him grip her wrist, pressing her palm fully to his face, "You can't do that. Give yourself some credit because you wouldn't be here if you didn't possess one hell of a strong streak. You saved yourself and you know that."

"Strong or stubborn?"

She couldn't keep from chuckling and winced again, closing her eyes for a minute. Seamus tightened his hold.

"I suppose I'm not one to talk, am I? But you know what I mean, right? You know you're stronger than that. If you want to give me some credit, I can't stop you, but you have to keep some for yourself or you'll fall into that trap," She tipped him a self-deprecating smile and stroked her fingertips against his cheek, "I may not be here to catch you if you fall and you'll need to remember that you have the means to catch yourself."

He returned her smile, but his was real. Squeezing her wrist and leaning forward, he brushed a kiss on her cheek and let her go.

"Well, we shouldn't let ourselves get separated again, then. How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but ready. Pretty much my usual," She got to her feet without embarrassing herself and touched the scarf again. It was bloody, but she felt good enough about leaving it alone, "What was that you gave me?"

"A little bit of everything. Makes you feel like a brand new person, huh?" Aine leveled her gaze on him and he shrugged, adding, "Just a standard antidote. You kept the dart, right? I couldn't find it anywhere."

"I have it. Let's keep going."

Aine felt the weakness down to the tips of her fingers, but that horrible, debilitating dizziness was gone. Which meant that Seamus had saved her and the poison was curbed at least. She didn't think it was completely gone and all she could do was hope it gave her respite long enough to finish this.

The passage behind the door was a dog leg, the other end housing a huge set of double doors and one Falmer that was taken down easily. Beyond the doors, the space grew cavernous once more and steps led up to a wide landing where another set continued behind a large gate. There were more Falmer here that didn't pose a problem with both of them working together. From the landing, two staircases climbed to a balcony over the door they entered and Aine, when she couldn't find a lever or crank for the gate at hand, turned to head that way. Seamus trailed her and she realized how much she had missed that.

The landing above was open, carved with the same Dwemer geometry that decorated the tunnels and the rest of Alftand. Seamus wandered to a large chest in a center alcove in the wall while Aine made her way to the ornate lever on the far side. She grabbed it without thinking about what she was doing and had to bite back a cry when her bad shoulder gave a severe twinge. She bent forward against the lever and spared a brief look at Seamus. He was busy with the contents of the chest and missed her moment of weakness. She took the lever in her good hand this time and had more success.

The gate rattled upward and Seamus refastened the larger pouch on his belt. They walked up the second set of stairs together and found a split staircase with an ornate landing in between them. Walls finished in gold stood on the far sides of both staircases and Aine couldn't see the alcoves until they had reached the top step. A mass of more gold and silver-tinted machinery lay at the base of one and Seamus nudged it with his toe.

"Hey, at least we didn't have to fight this guy."

Aine frowned at that choice of words and stepped closer to see what he meant. As she did so, there was a tremendous sound of rending metal and something that eerily resembled a scream, if metal could scream. She whirled and saw what Seamus meant firsthand - which was not a good thing.

The sound came from an enormous figure constructed entirely from the metal that had crumpled here. She could make out a face with narrow, rectangular eyes that glowed bright white. Steam billowed from various pipes and the smell of the thing was similar to that of a forge.

Aine's heart dropped and then began racing, wondering what the hell they were going to do _now_. This thing looked impregnable and it wasn't very encouraging to face off with it feeling like she did. She drew her axe that looked laughable and Seamus was the one to come up with a plan.

"Anni, come on!"

He dragged her from the gated section and bolted for the upper landing where the lever was. She guessed his thought, but he was in better shape than she was at the moment and he flipped the lever back as the metal monster reached the gate.

"Well, now what?"

"Now we can take the thing out," Aine answered simply, watching the monster batter itself against the gate. The metal grid vibrated with each hit, but showed no sign of weakening which was oddly encouraging, "We'll just have to find its weakness."

"Great, that should be no problem."

Aine studied the thing again, watching the steam and smelling that hot oil and metal scent. Oil…

She turned to Seamus.

"What do you have for an arsenal?"

He frowned at her.

"Arsenal?"

"It's going to be water or fire that will do the most damage. Unless you've secretly been studying conjuring spells, our option is fire. What do you have?"

Seamus immediately unloaded his belt and scattered his ingredients along the ground. Aine bent forward with him, her pain shoved to the back of her mind. As usual, he was loaded and she began mixing. He knew what her recipe was two steps in and they soon had a mound of projectiles. Seamus glanced at her when they sat back.

"You sure this will work, Anni?"

"Only one way to find out," She forgot her wounded arm again and nearly dropped a handful when the pain came roaring back, "Shit."

"Maybe let me? You're overdoing it again."

"Later, Seamus, let's try this."

The best point of attack was the landing and Seamus took careful aim. He flung the little trick and it sailed perfectly through the grid of the gate and landed on the ground near the monster's feet. It flashed to life - and flames - more eagerly than Aine expected and she was grimly pleased to see her theory proved. The oil in the thing's leg caught briefly, but it flared and then died and Aine had a sinking feeling they would need more direct contact.

"Can you get it over the top of the gate?"

"Over the top?"

"We need a direct hit, Seamus. This is definitely going to work, but we need them to hit it, not catch it off the bounce."

Seamus shrugged and then lobbed one over the top of the gate like she asked. It hit the ground with another flash of flame that once again briefly caught the monster's metal shell. Aine shook her head and made a snap decision.

"All right, then, change of plans. You have a much better arm than I do at the moment, so keep firing."

"Aine, what the hell are you doing?"

Seamus caught her arm in one hand when she turned for the lever again.

"I'm playing the bait, Seamus, and you're going to play the hero," She pulled free, "Like I said, keep firing."

"You're going to get us both killed."

Aine gave him a wave and hit the lever. The monster immediately stomped out of the gated area and Seamus fired. This time the direct hit gave her the effect Aine wanted.

The oil caught fully and began creeping into the joints of the monster. It flailed, swinging its arms and fanning the flames. Seamus threw a second and this time nailed it in the head. More fires erupted and there was another metallic scream. Unfortunately the thing was now on fire and _very_ pissed off, and heading for the steps.

Aine hurried to stand at the top of them, her bow in hand. She debated briefly on whether she should run down the other side and distract it, but every muscle in her body protested. The effects of the poison were still strong and she wouldn't last long on the ground against their metal monster. And she felt some encouragement when it staggered just shy of the steps.

Seamus had turned his attention to the stairs and fired a few more. Aine combined this with arrows, fighting the growing tightness in her shoulder with each one. The monster was weakening; it tripped on the steps and fell to its knees. Another of Seamus' projectiles hit it in the head and Aine let an arrow fly into one of the cables visible in the neck. The monster tried a few more stairs and Aine glanced over her shoulder at Seamus.

"I'm out," He said and came to stand at her elbow, "Now what?"

She shot another arrow, this one hitting the other side of that cable. With a loud hiss and a jet of steam, the thing popped loose and the monster stiffened before collapsing forward. Its head fell to one side and its body went still.

Aine let out a sigh and dropped her bow to her side. She felt something like regret for having to end this thing. It was clearly just doing what it was meant to, protecting this ruin from those that would harm it, and she couldn't fault it for that.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, yes, I'm ready," She started to sling her bow back and couldn't stretch herself in that direction. Seamus did it for her without a word and she glanced up at him, "Let's hope Blackreach and that damn Scroll are in one of the next rooms."

She slipped down the other staircase before he could start in on her. Seamus followed with a quick, impatient sounding exhale and they headed to the other area. They started up yet another set of steps and both stopped at the same time when they heard heated conversation. It was a man and woman arguing, the man's voice deep and smooth and the woman's even and passionate. They went back and forth over who actually owned the haul from the ruins and Aine let out a quiet moan when she retrieved her bow again. Seamus' shield was slung to his arm and his sword made a soft metallic ring when it came loose of the scabbard.

Aine listened for a moment and felt her reluctance for further death here. She lowered her bow a bit and stepped forward, pulling her arm from Seamus' sudden grab.

"If you'll listen to me for a second," She said evenly, stepping fully into the light where the two could see her. They rounded on her and Seamus started forward. It took just a brush of her fingers to stop him from attacking and the four of them stared at each other for a long moment, "I don't really give a damn about who thinks they own whatever is concealed here, we just need a way into Blackreach and the Tower of Mzark. If you have any knowledge of either, I'd appreciate it; if not, you two can go back to trying to kill each other."

The two of them exchanged a quick glance. The man was Imperial and the woman a Redguard. They were both well-armored and with the way the Redguard stood forward, Aine got the impression she was the alpha warrior here, maybe even a bodyguard for the Imperial.

"You want information? I have a hard time believing that considering what's supposed to be here."

The Imperial's words were hard and sharp, and the Redguard's sword came up in response. Aine wasn't impressed. She shrugged her shoulders and hid her wince.

"All right, never mind. Seamus and I aren't interested in the haul," She nudged him sharply when he muttered 'well' in an argumentative way and pressed on, "We have other things to deal with and I thought maybe we could band together. But, like I said, if you want to just kill one another, I'll let you do that."

The Redguard's blade dropped a bit even as the Imperial's eyes flashed.

"No, Sulla, wait a minute," She said softly, "This could work. We need help and here these two come, I think we should take them up on it. You two are wanting to get into Blackreach? We're the last two of an expedition into this ruin, believing there is a - substantial - reward there. Answer me honestly, is that what you seek?"

Aine blinked before she could help it, but caught herself before she looked at Seamus. That wouldn't do. Though these two might not notice.

"I don't care what Blackreach holds, apart from what I'm looking for," Even Aine heard the exhaustion in her voice and it distracted Seamus from his usual smart remarks to have her to worry about, "You can take whatever the hell we find; as long as it's not what I want. Do we have a deal?"

The Imperial's steady, impassive, black gaze finally flickered. He sheathed his weapon, but there was something in those eyes that seemed on the verge of being unhinged. Aine turned her attention abruptly to him and didn't bother with the Redguard anymore.

"All right, Umana, I'll bite on this. We'll go into Blackreach together."

Aine looked him over a moment longer and then nodded once before she entered the space the two others stood. It was a wide floor plan with huge pillars supporting the roof. In the center was a carved floor where a large, rectangular pedestal stood. Its top held another Dwemer artifact made up of gold covered metal. Aine stepped around closer to Umana and Sulla and found an ornate indentation where something could be placed. Something with a square base.

"This is as far as we could get," Umana's authoritative voice was loud and rather grating in this alcove and she moved closer to Aine's elbow, "There wasn't any mention of needing any key to get further. Those Khajiits-"

Seamus' quick intake of breath prompted Aine's interruption.

"They didn't know," She spoke rapidly, sparing only one brief, warning look at her friend, "No one would have unless they followed the instruction that I had and that was… Never mind. I have the way forward, it wasn't their fault and you can't blame them."

She felt Seamus' warm glance and chose to ignore it. Instead, she pulled the attunement sphere from her bag and set it into the square slot at the top. Immediately the carved floor began dropping, forming a spiral staircase leading down.

Aine watched it with little interest. She was so tired, so done with this, and it seemed like nothing was going to surprise her at this point.

"What do you think if we try to-"

"Leave it," Aine interrupted Sulla in a dry voice when he reached for the sphere, "There's no need to trap us down here, so leave it."

"You don't think we'll need it further in, Anni?"

"We were told we needed it to get into Blackreach and theoretically it's done that, right?" Aine quizzed, glancing at their new friends over her shoulder. She waited for their agreement before adding, "So we don't have to risk it."

She didn't wait for any other protests and led the way down into the dark. Seamus' flint flashed and he held the torch up so they could actually see the narrow steps. They wound deeper into the earth and finally opened on one of the most unusual places Aine had ever seen.

Blackreach was lit in an eerie blue, its sources from vein-like rivulets throughout the walls and ceiling. Huge fungi arched overhead and smaller growths clustered at their bases. Spores from the fungi floated near the ceiling and Seamus' torch almost wasn't needed. Mist curled around and through the buildings ahead and Aine's boot echoed strangely against the old cobbled street when she stepped off the last stair.

"What is this place?" Seamus questioned slowly, stopping beside Aine.

"Blackreach is part of a collection of cities that the Dwemer founded when they discovered Aetherium," Sulla explained, his voice deepening to a perfect storytelling pitch, "That's what gives this place that blue light. It's incredibly strong and you can craft just about anything from it, but you need special tools and forge for it. The Dwemer were incredibly industrious and they created what was required. Unfortunately those plans were lost long ago and no one has managed anything close to the tools."

"And that's what you're looking for," Aine wasn't asking and she shifted her bag around to pull Signus' map loose, "Good luck with that. We have our own task to complete. You seem familiar with this place, Sulla, do you know what direction the Tower of Mzark would be in?"

Sulla crouched when Aine did and grasped the other end of the map. Umana stood behind him and Seamus lowered his torch so more light fell across the map.

"We're here, the old market is down that way, and the laboratory is north of there. The Tower is down here," Sulla pointed and then traced the path with one finger, "What's your plan? Do you want to continue together or do we split up here?"

"You wanted into Blackreach and I did that; I wanted to know the Tower's location and you just gave me the information," Aine shrugged her shoulders and folded up the maps again, "It's up to you, Sulla, we'd welcome the help, but it's up to you."

Umana was looking at her boss and Aine saw her lips flatten into a line. She glanced at Sulla who rubbed his hand along his stubbly chin and looked around Blackreach. The air was still and cool, but Aine thought she could hear steps or movement further in the depths.

"We won't waste anymore of our time. Or yours," Sulla reached out with one hand, "You have my thanks, Anni, was it?"

"For Seamus, yes. My name's Aine," She shook his hand and heard Seamus snort with laughter, "Good luck."

They parted ways and Seamus extinguished his torch as they followed the cobbles in the direction Sulla had indicated.

"Thanks for making me feel so special."

"Well, it's true. Have you ever heard anyone else call me Anni? That's your name for me, Seamus, and I rather like the idea of just you using it."

"That poison must've done something to your head. You're never normally this…"

"Understanding?"

"Affectionate," Seamus cocked his head at her and met her gaze steadily when she looked up at him in surprise, "What is going on?"

Aine let out a breath and turned her attention back to the incredible landscape Blackreach supplied. It was so other-wordly and strange, but that could only distract one for so long, and she knew Seamus wasn't about to let this rest.

"I was an ass. I should've seen how much J'darr's state of mind meant to you and I _never_ should have dismissed him because he was an addict," She shrugged and reached to twist a lock of hair back behind her ear, "You needed to see him succeed because you feel you're in kind of the same predicament and I completely brushed that - and consequently you - off. I left you alone, Seamus, when you could have… if there had actually been - I'm sorry."

Seamus put his hand on her arm and stopped their progress. His brown eyes were warm and he shook his head a bit.

"No more apologies, Anni. We've already settled that and there's no need to rehash it now, huh?"

"So you're saying drop it? Seamus, I-"

"I'm saying drop it. We had it out, Aine, and it's over. Let's move on," He squeezed her arm and added gently, "Really, it's okay. You don't need to apologize anymore."

Aine felt there was all that need and more, but she didn't push it. Instead, they pressed on. The place grew even more impressive. The mist deepened and made the ruins of buildings loom larger than ever, shadows giving it an ominous air. There were groups of Falmer here and there that were taken care of with ease and Aine found herself depending on Seamus more as time went on.

Her shoulder ached and the poison seemed to be slowly gaining a foothold. She felt rather woozy and any rapid movements sent her brain spinning uselessly. Though maybe that was due to blood loss. The scarf around her waist was sticky in places, stiff in others, and she knew that at least a few of her stitches had pulled enough to contribute to the bloody mess. But that didn't matter at the moment; she would rest later.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** Hello all and I hope you enjoy! Bethesda isn't mine, neither is the Dragonborn, though I do claim ownership of Seamus - which isn't as bad as you might think ;-D. All the best, catalina

* * *

They continued through the dank, blue-lit expanse and found themselves following an underground creek. It was clear and the light made it sparkle in a beautiful - mysterious - fashion that was entrancing. The buildings and mist faded as they walked and with them went the Falmer; and the fungi grew more prolific. The spores sailed silently overhead and lit the path for them.

"There, Anni, that's got to be it."

He pointed to a tall, narrow structure half-buried in the mist that had thickened again just ahead. They got close enough to see the path bridged their pretty creek and led straight to the tower. The water bubbled musically under them and Aine pushed open the double doors.

"What the hell?" She said quietly.

"Not exactly what we were expecting," Seamus agreed.

The interior was narrow like the tower, carved beautifully in the Dwemer's distinct pattern, but the only prominent feature was a lever in the center of the floor.

Aine stepped forward and tipped her head to look up at the top of the tower. The shadows deepened and she couldn't make out much, but the lever was promising.

"It's an elevator, after a fashion," She answered and went back to examine the lever. It was almost the exact same as the one where the huge machine monster was, save a few more intricate carvings added to the handle itself, "Come on, Seamus, I think it's up from here."

Seamus stepped through and left the doors open. As soon as he was clear of anything that might grab at him, Aine pulled the lever. The floor rose slowly at first and then sped up as it neared the top. Aine had to close her eyes, worried the movement would exacerbate her dizziness. It slowed almost as soon as it started to speed and came to an easy stop.

The doorway ahead stood open and the room was like the ruins of Alftand: carved pillars and gold covered pipes jutting from the walls. There were a few signs that someone had once kept watch here or maybe inhabited this room, but it was ages ago. Another door led further in and Aine headed that way.

This was the last room, as far as they could tell. A stone path led around more gold metal and the large bluish-green stones set into the surface reminded her of Signus' cube. The path wound around this and they followed it up. It finally terminated on a small platform and Aine and Seamus both stood momentarily frozen, trying to make sense of what they were looking at.

It was a huge sphere they had climbed around, the top of it was visible from where they stood, and suspended over it was a large contraption of arms. Each was a different length with a lens of the same green-blue at the other end. The lenses were also different sizes and a couple of arms held circular frames with two or three lenses inside. On the platform were five waist-high towers, four of which had buttons set into their centers, the middle was an intricate - almost mapping. Near the end closest to their ramp was a taller pedestal with an open center where something might be inserted.

"And here we go," Aine muttered and pulled the lexicon free. She put it into the recess, "Hopefully it doesn't take Signus to figure this out."

The two pedestals closest to them lit and Seamus grabbed her arm to pull her back a bit when the sphere moved, huge gold rings rotating around it.

"It's okay, Seamus, I think that's just what it's supposed to do."

Aine pulled free and stepped to the pedestals. The second one away from the lexicon was brighter than the other and she pushed it. There was another grinding sound and the loops orbited the sphere again as the lenses swung on their arms. The pedestal immediately to the left of the middle lit and Aine saw that it wasn't so much lighting as it was an eyelid opening. The blue was covered by a gold shutter that slid upward and she glanced quickly at the farthest right which was still open and staring at her. The cube had changed positions and she considered it a moment before depressing the newly opened button. She had the strongest impression that though the Dwemer had planned on making this look difficult, the simplest path would be the answer.

The rings stayed put this time and instead the lenses swung about, shifting into another intricate pattern as the cube turned in its pedestal. Nothing happened and she frowned, looking at the far button again. She studied the little mapping in the middle and then hit the same button. The lenses moved, catching the light that streamed into the tower and pinpointing against the large sphere below her. The last one opened.

Aine couldn't feel Seamus behind her anymore, but she didn't think anything of it and she depressed it. This time the lenses swung to hang at the perimeter of the sphere and a new contraption dropped. This was made up of the same metal with gems spaced evenly in narrow bands. Suspended in its center was another very large green, blue-veined gem. Bands of metal surrounded it and it dropped from its vertical position to hang horizontal from its frame. A moment later, with another _click_ , it opened and the ends pulled apart to reveal what looked like a scroll on a platform within.

She let out a small breath and made her way to the other side of the platform where another walkway extended to the separated gem. Seamus' absence still hadn't registered and she looked over the scroll before gently removing it from its resting place. It was long, but she was able to tuck it into her pack without too much trouble.

"Seamus? What happened to you?"

She grabbed Signus' lexicon when she headed back the other way, its newly-runed surface warm against her fingers, and started to call his name again when she heard movement below her. The landing at the base of the ramp was larger than she first realized and another walkway led underneath the platform above.

"Seamus?"

Aine entered the little alcove and then stopped in her tracks.

"Well done, _Anni,_ I couldn't have gotten down here without you. And I'll take the lexicon now, if you don't mind."

Sulla stood with his sword in hand, blocking the doorway behind him. His eyes glittered in the light and his smile was twisted, bordering on unbalanced. There was no sign of Umana or Seamus and an ice cold hand gripped her heart. She eased her weight back and her hand twitched toward her bow.

"Uh-huh, I wouldn't."

The Imperial's eyes flicked over Aine's shoulder and she took another half-step, keeping him in her peripheral while following his gaze. The hand squeezed a bit tighter and her brain started rapidly flying over their options here. Umana had Seamus pinned against her, one hand holding a vicious dagger to his throat. His brown eyes were fixed on Aine and his hands gripped Umana's arm.

"Aine, don't-"

Umana pressed the dagger more firmly against him and stopped the flow of words. Aine felt her temper flare brightly and she bit down hard on her tongue. This was a hell of a lot harder than she thought; normally she flew into a - well, hell, she became an 'inferno' - and she knew this wouldn't help Seamus.

"So do you need more convincing or can we have the lexicon?"

Sulla's voice was even, almost cheerful, and Aine about lost it. Her mind was still firing and she finally came up with a solution. She dropped the hand that had been inching to the bow and lifted her shoulders.

"It would save me the trouble," She said and felt Sulla's confusion, "I mean, why split the price two ways when you can have it to yourself, right? Besides, spend more than five minutes with Seamus Hady and you want to either slit your wrists or blow him sky-high. You can't tell me that's not true."

Umana frowned as well and the dagger slipped a bit, but she wasn't so stupid as to release him completely. Sulla, however, dropped the sword and stared at Aine.

"What is this? What do you think is going to happen here?"

"I thought that was obvious. Seamus has been a thorn in my side for weeks; truly you'd be doing me a favor," She spread her hands and winced when her side twinged, "Hell, he managed to get me shot with a poisoned dart and you think I'm _not_ pissed about that? I'd even off him myself, if you let me."

Sulla's frown deepened and his sword hand relaxed completely. He glanced at Seamus and Umana and then found Aine again. She arched her brows at him, hoping against hope she didn't have to spell out the plan here.

"Why split this _three_ ways?"

"If you let me take care of him, you can take the damned thing. I have a feeling it's going to be more trouble than its worth and I'm not in the mood to deal with it," She took a small step forward and dropped her voice a bit, "Please, like I said, this bastard got me shot, I want to take care of him."

Umana said Sulla's name quietly and Sulla waved one hand. He didn't look away from Aine and she got the impression he was going some quick thinking. His eyes moved down over her and with a shift, she made sure he could see the blood-soaked scarf around her waist. He still looked uncertain and she let out a sigh, stepping swiftly to Umana and Seamus. The Redguard had dropped the blade more fully and Aine threw a punch as soon as she did. She caught Seamus in the jaw and sent both of them staggering. Umana almost lost her grip, but she was quick on her feet and she had Seamus back under control before Aine could make another move. Instead she turned back to Sulla.

"Well?"

"Okay, let him go."

"Sulla-"

"Now, Umana, I believe her," Sulla looked at Aine and she saw the glimmer of suspicion in his eyes still; she'd have to act quickly, "You swear you'll give us the lexicon?"

Aine dipped her hand into the pouch at her belt and tossed the inscribed lexicon to him.

"Convinced yet?"

Sulla turned the cube over in his hand and then tipped another wicked smile. He waved one hand and took a step back. Aine didn't wait for Umana to let go of Seamus before she loosed her bow and knocked an arrow. The Redguard sent another look at her boss which must've been ignored. An expression of deep disgust crossed her face and she shoved Seamus from her. He stumbled forward and Aine had to clamp down on her tongue again. There was a red mark already blooming on her friend's chin and she beat back her guilt, raising the bow.

"Any last words, Hady?" Sulla asked and Aine felt him draw closer to her, "I think she's rather serious."

Seamus let out a breath and stood with his hands loose at his sides. He looked between Aine and Sulla, and Umana went ignored. His expression was strained, worried, and Aine wasn't sure if this was an act.

"I… I don't - I mean… What's left even to say?"

"Good enough for you?" Sulla waited until Aine nodded and then clapped her on the shoulder, "Me too. He's all yours."

Aine raised the bow, her side burning at the strain, and took careful aim.

"So long, Seamus, and good riddance."

Seamus lifted his hands and took a small step back. The bow creaked and Aine inhaled, holding the breath, before making a snap decision. Swinging the bow to the left, she side-stepped, trying to anticipate Sulla's action. The arrow sank into Umana's neck and Sulla dove at Aine. They both hit the ground hard and the bow skittered across the floor. Pain snapped through Aine's body and she couldn't suppress a cry of pain. Sulla grappled for a hold on her neck and then let out a gasp. He started to turn toward the rest of the room and then collapsed on top of her, intensifying that heat in her side. She coughed for a moment and then tried shifting the man off of her - without success. Seamus helped with that.

He knelt beside them and shoved the Imperial's body away. His hand was tender when he took her elbow, but he didn't help her sit up after she shook her head.

"Not - not yet," Her voice was breathless and she waited another beat for the pain to subside. It didn't and she lost patience. Seamus' hand was strong and firm, and she was at least sitting on the floor instead of lying there, "Good enough."

Seamus sat beside her and let out a dry chuckle.

"You know, for a minute there I thought you might actually kill me, Aine. And you pack one hell of a punch."

She smiled as he rubbed his jaw and took up the lexicon where it had fallen from Sulla's hand.

"Tempting, but I think I really need the comic relief you provide."

"How flattering and I suppose you think I owe you some thanks?"

He had meant it in a lighthearted fashion, but Aine felt the jab anyway. She glanced down at the lexicon and started to her feet. Her pain grew and she inhaled sharply, swaying. Seamus caught her and helped her stand. She leaned on him a moment and then pushed away.

"Not at all. Actually, I think I'm even more in your debt, Seamus," She tipped her head up at him and allowed a little smile, "This time I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

He returned the smile and chucked her under the chin. Afraid the conversation would grow even more intimate, Aine opted for a complete change of subject and nodded to the rather bulging pouches on his belt.

"Anything good?"

He looked confused for a blink and then grinned.

"You know me, nose for gold," He gave her a shrug when she leveled her gaze, "I found another body on the other side of the chamber with a journal. He ran into the Khajiits and was told the same thing about a treasure here. Also a bag of gold, lock picks which are naturally yours, and a few other things I couldn't leave behind. They caught me right after that little discovery," He glanced down at the sprawled bodies and then shrugged away whatever feelings he had there, "You ready?"

"I was ready hours ago. Let's get back to Whiterun," She rolled her shoulders and felt the dizziness vying for a hold on her. That tackle was - well, 'shitty' was putting it lightly, "You're right, I'm done."

* * *

Seamus and Aine made it back to Winterhold just in time for the poison to take hold of Aine again. She almost collapsed out of Lettie's saddle and Seamus had to grab her. The proprietor, after a word from his very pretty daughter who flushed at Seamus' smile, gave them their same rooms and a few potions from the storeroom shelf. Aine drank them obediently and for a while, lost everything.

When she woke up, it was early morning of the next day. Her head swam when she sat up, but it felt more like a bad hangover and less like she was about to keel over from poison. The fire in her room had been banked well and she slowly got up to stoke life back into it. She sank down into one of the chairs near the hearth and only had a moment's peace when a knock sounded on her door.

Figuring it was Seamus, she merely called an answer and didn't bother actually checking. The smell of coffee preceded her entering and the daughter's - Aine was sure her name was Frida - voice was almost apologetic when she spoke.

"Morning, lady, I'm sorry to disturb you so early, but Papa said the potions would probably get you up before the others and I have a message for you."

Aine frowned as the girl put the mug down on the table and tucked her hand into one pocket of her apron.

"A message? From Seamus?"

"No, lady, your friend isn't up yet. This is from a man that came about an hour ago. He said you would understand its meaning."

Aine thanked her and took the proffered note. Frida ducked back out the doorway and Aine turned her attention to the paper. It was rolled into a tight scroll and sealed with a symbol that was almost the Thieves Guild but not quite. She took up the mug in one hand and swallowed gratefully, not sure she was ready for this without coffee. Brynjolf's words came back to her about seeing them both again before long and she shook her head.

It hurt to try and open the scroll with her bad hand and she swapped the mug out for the scroll, not ready to let the coffee go just yet. The seal broke rather easily, evidence of how weak her bad arm really was, and she held it open in her fingers.

 _Your friend moved into Solitude and it sounds like it'll last a while. We'll be the first to hear if and when he's assigned somewhere else and we'll get word to you. Now it's your turn. Meet me on the south road from Winterhold. It's about three miles from town and I'll find you._

 _MF_

Aine let her hand fall into her lap and she stared at the flames curling around the logs in the fireplace. Her temper was flaring to life and nothing that had happened to her seemed to dampen that. It was rather encouraging.

The mention of Percival was still enough to fan the flames and the idea that he had bedded down in Solitude wore at her in the worst way. Frey's ease with his demand didn't help and she suddenly wished she had something stronger than coffee. Her arm ached and she rubbed absently at her shoulder, trying to soothe some of it. The wound from that dart was tender, but no longer stabbed her and she felt good enough to start over today.

The knowledge that the lexicon was waiting for Signus and the Elder Scroll for Paarthurnax weighed heavily on her, and she hated this predicament. She had struck a deal with the Thieves Guild and she still couldn't bring herself to backtrack. Cursing Mercer Frey roundly in her head, she sat up and drained the last of her coffee. She got to her feet and made her way gingerly to her packs.

She was on her second search through them and starting to get more pissed off and worried she'd dropped the damn lexicon when there was another knock on her door. She dropped the bags on her bed and crossed the room too quickly, her head whirling with the suddenness of moving. The knob cut into her skin when she pulled the door open and Seamus' face was flushed with cold under his cap. His pale brown eyes were bright and he carried another couple of coffee mugs with him.

"Oh, now there's my inferno," He greeted cheerfully, moving by her into the room and to the hearth, "What's ignited her this morning?"

"You have it? Shit, Seamus, don't do that to me."

"Well, _had_ it," He unwound a scarf from his neck and pulled his hat free. Snow dripped from his cloak and he turned to face her when she looked at him in confusion, "Now it's safely in the hands of our special friend Siggy. Though 'safe' is a stretch."

Aine blinked and swung the door shut. She moved back to the warmth of the fire and watched as Seamus settled into a chair and claimed one of the mugs.

"What do you… You mean you already returned the lexicon?"

"I did. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep and decided to take care of it for you. You didn't need to make the journey again and Siggy didn't have anything else to add about the Elder Scroll. This was always about his big cube and I don't think he even realized it was me and not you that came back. Sit down, Anni, and finish your coffee, you look like you're about ready to collapse - again."

"It's been a long few weeks," She hesitated and then reached out to ruffle his shaggy hair. His brown eyes met hers in absolute surprise and that was warranted; she wasn't one for gestures, "You're - something else, Seamus Hady, and I really don't know where I'd be without you."

"Still beating the hell out of Civ, where else?"

Aine laughed then, really laughed, and it felt amazing. She took the other mug and felt her mood darken almost immediately when she spotted the note on her chair. Without glancing at him, she handed it over and settled into the seat. Seamus frowned at her and read the note without asking what it was.

"I hate it when people are right about my life," She sighed and tipped her head against the back of the chair, "What do you think? Is it common for the guildmaster to take on a task himself? Why not include one of the others; at least Brynjolf? It just strikes me odd."

Seamus set the note aside and took another swig of coffee. He shrugged.

"Hard to say. Jolf said Frey's losing popularity. If he thinks his own are turning against him, he's not going to ask any of them. What are you going to do?"

Aine snorted and rubbed at her face.

"They've held up their end of our bargain and I'm still not-"

"Going to add them to our trouble. All right then, how soon do you want to leave?"

"Seamus, you don't have to tag along on this one. This is _my_ deal with the guild, not yours. You can start for High Hrothgar; I'm sure there's some that you missed in Arngeir's office."

Seamus didn't bother stifling a yawn and Aine recognized the show. She couldn't keep her lips from quirking. It was an old play, but one she hadn't seen for far too long.

"Nice try, little inferno, but like I already told you-"

"I'm stuck with you."

"I never would have thought it'd take you this long to ride three miles."

Aine felt all her distaste come back at the sound of that nasal voice and she slid from Lettie's saddle when Frey came into view. He had been hunkering down in the bushes lining the road and his horse snorted in something like impatience when it lifted its head.

"You didn't say anything about time constraints so we didn't rush, and of course, now we're here. Do you mind telling us what all this is about?"

"Not here. Follow me."

He swung himself into the horse's saddle and turned his head to the rise behind them. Seamus exchanged glances with Aine and she tipped her head.

"We need a few answers first," She returned and leaned against Lettie's warm shoulder, "Such as: what exactly should we expect here?"

Frey's eyes flickered with annoyance and he glanced around their surroundings before letting out a small sigh.

"Do we have to-"

"Answer her, Frey, she's not going to budge otherwise."

Aine glanced up at her friend, wondering if he felt the same unease about the guildmaster. It was very unusual for him to not assign a nickname straight away.

"I need your help in Snow Veil Sanctum," Frey spoke abruptly and leaned on the horn of the saddle, the reins held loosely in one hand, "There's a - ghost - from my past that has reared her head and I couldn't, in good conscience, involve any of the others in this. We got you information on your Percival; I need to call in that favor."

"He's not mine," Aine muttered and Seamus made a quiet sound. She didn't elaborate, "What do you mean a ghost?"

"Please, can we talk on the way? It's about a mile up the hills here."

"I'm still not sure-"

"We had a deal and I'm holding up my end. Hold up yours."

She exhaled a hiss of breath, sounding like an angry cat even to herself. Seamus told his 'little inferno' to decompress and she bit the inside of her cheek. Frey looked at her expectantly and she hated this trapped feeling.

"Fine, but full disclosure, Frey, we deserve that much."

Frey didn't say anything, but swept one hand like he was inviting her forward. Aine pulled herself back into Lettie's saddle and she and Seamus matched their horses' pace to his.

"My ghost is a Dark Elf by the name of Karliah. She used to be a member of the guild, until she betrayed our guildmaster at the time, Gallus Desidenius. He was murdered and Karliah was the culprit. She escaped the Thieves Guild - and justice - and has been hidden these past twenty-five years. Until now. She's back and aiming for me. Our organization has been suffering for some time and recently it's come to light that she's to blame. I've received word that she's here, waiting for someone from the guild to meet her. I don't think she's expecting me to show up and I'll need back-up. Karliah is very talented and she'll be desperate, I can't face her alone."

Aine reined in Lettie and stared hard at Frey.

"And so instead you think you can risk _our_ lives? Come on, Frey-"

"You mean you'd be willing to risk those that have become your family? If you were in my place what would you do?"

She hesitated before grudging him the point. Lettie moved forward again and Seamus fell in beside her. Aine glanced sidelong at the guildmaster.

"And what happens if you do find her?"

Frey met her gaze.

"Do you really need to ask?"

"I suppose not," Aine looked over at Seamus and he gave her a comic look and lifted his shoulders. She couldn't risk saying anything to him directly and she didn't try. They'd just have to go along with this, "You're sure she'll be here?"

"I wouldn't waste our time if I didn't and you'll see for yourself here soon. That's the edge of Snow Veil ahead."

He pointed to a hump in the level snow and they approached to find a barrow similar to Ustengrav. Almost in unison, they slipped from their saddles and made their way down the wooden steps to Snow Veil's door. Before Aine or Seamus could ask, Frey picked the lock and opened the door on a dim interior. The path led down into the dark, the cobbled floor smudged and filled with cobwebs. There was a soft yellow glow ahead at the bottom of what had to be stairs and Frey started in without another glance at them. Aine followed and Seamus grabbed her arm.

"You sure about this, Anni? He's not exactly… trustworthy, yeah?"

Aine lifted her shoulders.

"We don't have much of a choice, Seamus. Let's just get through this and the hell out of here."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Hello! Sorry for the delay, I've been away from the Internet for a week or so. Anyway, enjoy and I hope to be back on schedule after this. Take care!

* * *

They trailed after Frey into Snow Veil and whatever came next. The interior was lit with bowls of fire and smouldering coals, just bright enough to see, but not for any in-depth study. Frey moved swiftly through the tunnels, his pace sure and determined. It moved down into the earth as relentlessly as Ustengrav had and Aine was only too happy to see the bodies of slain draugr. She wasn't crazy about fighting them at the moment; they were tough little bastards and not fun to deal with.

"I think that chain will open up the gate ahead," Frey motioned to the chain dangling in an alcove. They stood in a small room with more scattered bodies of draugr and a handful of burial urns that Seamus immediately crossed to loot, "Be careful. It looks like Karliah reset the traps and that-"

"I see it. That spike trap will swing," Aine interrupted and made her way to the chain. She didn't question Frey's insistence at her pulling the chain and not him; the argument would just waste time, "I'm not blind, Frey."

Frey's gaze flickered and he looked to be doing some very quick thinking. Aine almost stopped, but didn't want to give anything away. Seamus laughed quietly and tipped an urn over as Aine crouched in the alcove and pulled the chain. The spiked gate swung fast, enormously fast, and the spikes slammed into the wall on either side of the alcove. If she wasn't as thin as she was, and she hadn't crouched where she did, she would have been skewered. The other gate rattled upward and Seamus moved over to pull the trap back. His expression was concerned and Frey inspected the newly opened passage.

"You okay?"

"A little close for comfort, but yes, I'm fine," Aine accepted his help to get free of the alcove when she realized he had to prop the gate open with one foot. His hand was firm around hers and he pulled her around him before letting the trap slam back. She pressed his fingers and met his gaze, "Keep an eye on him. Something's off."

He frowned and then nodded, dropping her hand and waving her in front of him. They pressed on down into a section of catacombs and two draugr came to life with groans that echoed in the close space. Frey yanked a large sword from his belt and Seamus and Aine both fell back to clear out of his way. The hilt was double-handed and Aine drew her bow. One of her arrows disappeared into the eyeless socket of one of the monsters and it dropped. Seamus didn't have a chance to help Frey with the other and the guildmaster lopped the head from it a moment later.

"Let's keep going," His voice was short and a little breathless, "She's had a head start and was taught to move without disturbing these monsters."

Aine opened her mouth to ask how he knew that, but Seamus touched her shoulder. He shook his head when she looked up at him and she dropped it, for now.

The catacombs continued and Aine pushed by Frey when she caught the hiss of another draugr. She had the arrow ready and she shot the thing in the head when it came into view, pacing in the next chamber. The monster dropped and more hisses sounded. A second was killed by another of her red fletched arrows and Frey couldn't be stopped this time. He charged forward when Aine said his name and a moment later was surrounded by four of the draugr. Seamus cursed and chased after him as Aine took out the one that charged her friend. They made quick work of the rest and Aine slung her bow back, wincing at the twinge in her shoulder, but too frustrated to register it completely.

"Look, if we're going to work together and get through this we need to come to something of an understanding," She tried in vain to keep her voice in a murmur, that rational Meara-voice reminding her of the draugr being so sensitive to sound, "Unless you feel like wearing yourself out before meeting your Karliah by fighting every single damn draugr in the place, you need to keep quiet. Let me take out any of the that are wandering around awake and you and Seamus can catch the stragglers if needed. Please, Frey, I don't use that word very often and I know that we're here helping you, but I can't keep going like that. It just doesn't make sense."

Frey studied her a moment and then, rather reluctantly, nodded his head. He extended his hand like he had earlier and Aine waved it right back at him. The guildmaster led the way and Aine noted with something like grim satisfaction, he took her advice. Seamus gave her a comical face and she grinned, once again rejoicing in how wonderful it felt.

They pressed forward and reached another portion of catacombs where the path split, going around a middle column. Aine stepped forward and touched Frey's arm. He nodded at her and crouched to disarm the simple tripwire that spanned the right-hand path. Something on the other side of the pillar fell with a crash and flames ignited a second later.

Aine hurried to the other side and fired at the draugr that stepped around a corner. The monster collapsed and another took its place. Frey jumped the flames and charged down to attack it while Aine cursed. _After I just mentioned this!_ Seamus followed and luckily, it was only this and another that surfaced. She considered giving him hell, but she dropped it and they found themselves at another gated path. There were no traps here and Aine pulled a chain near the gate. It rattled up and they were in another narrow room. Bones strung on heavy twine suspended from the ceiling, spaced about shoulder width apart and making going forward rather treacherous.

"Bone chimes, clever. This would have been child's play for Karliah," Frey sent a look at Aine over one shoulder, "You keep talking about quiet. I'd watch these if I were you. One rattle and these draugr will wake up."

He actually spoke in a whisper and he gestured to the caskets surrounding them. Aine felt a cool smile tip her lips and her temper heated. She fought hard to keep from erupting and maneuvered through the bone chimes without issue. The men followed and Aine pulled the next chain. This gate slid up without much sound and the path still sloped downward. It turned a sharp left and even before they could see what was ahead, Aine heard the harsh sound of stone grating against stone. The hiss of the draugrs came next and Aine caught Frey's arm before he could blunder down into the next room. She put one finger against her lips and eased forward.

The way sloped down again and she could hear the movements of the monsters in the next room. She dropped to a crouch, her bow string pulled taut, and the fletching tickling her cheek. Movement was visible and she let the arrow fly, rewarded by a gurgle and then that distinct _thud_ of a body hitting the ground. The other monsters called a warning of sorts and she drew back sharply, hoping they weren't that clever.

She heard Seamus as he held Frey back and the agitated noises down below faded for a moment. She took a careful step forward and lowered her head to see. The draugrs were pacing around and she counted four. Another was dispatched and a third actually turned to the tunnel. She fired again, hitting the thing in the shoulder, and it kept at her. Drawing back and stringing another arrow, this one sailed into the monster's head and it fell to the cobbles. The other two followed and Aine took care of one while a knife buzzed by her head and sank into the other's neck. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Frey lower one hand. He gave her a nod and moved to take the lead again.

The room was large, the ceiling soared overhead, and the sound of grating that Aine had heard came from stone sarcophagi that stood on a raised dais. Stairs led up to a second level on the right hand side and Frey headed in that direction. The upper portion was empty save another draugr body and stairs continued up again straight ahead. They terminated at a stone walk that was closed in by rusted metal bars, and more catacombs followed.

These were lit only by single and double candles, making it even harder to see, and Frey managed to proceed with caution this time. There were more draugr to take out and the next gate was closed against them.

"Anni-"

"I know," Aine interrupted softly, eyeing the next obstacle. Large clay urns were stacked against the iron bars of the gate in such a way that there was no way to open it without knocking them to the ground and making one hell of a clatter, "I think we might have to just go for this."

"What about silence?"

"Leave it," She wasn't in the mood for Frey's sarcasm and she studied the urns again, "Seamus, do you think you could push these when I pull the chain? You know what, never mind. Pull it, please, I'll see what I can do to minimize the damage."

Seamus made his way to the chain and Aine got ready to push the urns away from the grate in an attempt to keep them from falling to the stones. As she did so, she caught sight of the pressure plate. Seamus had already pulled the chain and she dropped flat to the ground, calling a warning to the others. Frey dove out of the way and Seamus pressed himself to the wall when the darts sailed through the doorway. They bounced harmlessly off the wall behind them and the urns crashed with all the noise that they were intended to make. Aine waited a moment longer and then lifted her head.

"Well, now _that_ was clever."

Seamus sounded very cheerful for a near death experience and Aine had to agree with him.

"Karliah was definitely through here. She always was a minx; this would have been easy for her."'

"More child's play?"

Aine crouched near the pressure plate and studied the work. It had taken some skill and time to accomplish this and she was impressed. The urns had been meant to make noise, sure, but the primary goal was to shoot those darts and at least incapacitate whoever was following.

"She was trained well."

Aine looked up at Frey, but he was already moving through the next tunnel. A draugr guarded the bottom of the next set of steps and the wooden doors at the top were closed tight. Aine would have voted for caution again, but Frey couldn't be stopped. The doors opened inward and the urns stacked against them tumbled and busted open, the noise echoing throughout the large room. Ahead, there was a tall platform where two other sarcophagi were kicked open following the busting of the urns.

Frey darted forward and Seamus followed while Aine provided them cover. These two weren't a simple kill and she had to move forward to take care of the one that made for Seamus' unprotected back. It fell from the platform and landed near her feet and she was halfway up the stairs when the other Shouted - _her_ Shouts - and Frey fell onto the steps, missing her by centimeters. Seamus cursed above them and Aine stepped over Frey to hurry up to help. The draugr was bearing down on her friend and the arrow slammed into its head. It fell backward and went still and over its prone body, Aine saw the wall.

It was exactly like Bleak Falls Barrow and she ignored Seamus' voice, instead heading back down the steps and around the back of the platform. The same pattern repeated itself: the dimming of the light, a sound of rushing in her ears, and her legs grew weak to the point of dropping into a crouch at the sudden flood of power through her.

"Aine?"

"Little inferno? What's going on? You okay?"

Frey's voice was lost under Seamus' and his hands were gentle on her shoulders. She exhaled rather shakily and pressed a hand to her eyes. Her strength was slowly returning and she brushed his fingers with hers.

"I-I'm fine. That just - sucks, every time," She got to her feet and sighed again. Her legs weren't strong and Seamus slipped one arm around her. She allowed it and and then shook her head, "It's okay. Let's keep going."

"You sure?"

Seamus held her steady and his brown eyes were concerned.

"I'm sure. We can't let her get too far ahead, right?"

"Right. If she's ready, let's go."

Seamus' lips parted at Frey's short tone, but Aine shrugged him off and started for the next gated doorway. Another chain had to be pulled and the gate rattled up. The path continued ahead before turning to the right. It terminated against one of the same doors Aine had hit in Bleak Falls, the type that needed a Claw to unlock. Aine opened her mouth to quiz Frey, but it was too late, he had already stepped forward and pulled the Claw from his pocket.

"It just needs-"

"To match the pattern on the Claw, I know," Aine interrupted and waved one hand at him, "Go ahead, Frey, astound us."

Seamus grinned at her, moving to stand at her side. The guildmaster arranged the hoops and inserted the key when the lock appeared. The door sank into the ground and then things happened rather fast when they started into the next room. Seamus had moved a little forward of Frey and the guildmaster seemed to match his pace with Aine's. She had enough time to wonder what that meant and then the world turned upside down.

Seamus grunted in pain and fell to the floor, and Aine turned to see to him when Frey rounded on her and threw a punch. It caught her full in the cheek and she fell back, her head bouncing on the stone wall behind her and flinging her into oblivion.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Oh my WORD! I'm getting horrible at this fanfiction thing! So, so, so sorry about the delay in posts! But here is the next installment and you all get to come back to the light with Aine. Enjoy and all the very best to my readers.

* * *

Aine started up suddenly and her head protested. Groaning, she lay back down and put her hand over her eyes. The stars that exploded behind her eyelids slowly faded and her cheek stung when her fingers knocked against it. She probed it gently and felt how swollen it was. Her tongue made sure all her teeth were still there and she suddenly remembered Seamus.

The alarm was enough to make her movements rapid once more and she fought the dizziness, closing her eyes again. The air around her was cold and she felt a sharp wind.

"Seamus?" Her voice was hoarse and low and she winced, putting one hand to the blanket beneath her so she wouldn't tumble backward. _Blanket…?_ "Seamus-"

"It's all right, he's here. He's recovering well and should be on his feet soon."

The new voice was female, low and rather dusky. Aine cracked her eyes open. They were in a protected hollow and night had fallen. A fire crackled steadily a few feet from her, the heat very welcome, and Seamus was stretched near her. Her heart twisted in fear and her stomach dropped at how pale he was and there was something deeply buried in that fear that she didn't think she wanted to examine too closely at this moment. As she watched, his own chest rose and fell in a normal rhythm and she forced herself to unclench her fingers; he'd be okay. It settled her enough and she met the gaze of the Dunmer sitting opposite her.

The Elf was dressed in finely made, dark leather armor and a hood shadowed her face even more. Her red eyes were bright in the flickering firelight and she stared steadily at Aine. Her face was tired but beautiful and Aine realized who she was looking at. Her hands fumbled through her belt and came up empty. Her bow was gone too, as well as her arrows, and she felt her strength fading. She dropped her hands and straightened herself.

"What the hell's going on?"

"You know who I am. Will you let me tell you the actual story?"

Aine glanced over at Seamus when he stirred. Karliah merely sat erect and at attention. She waved one hand at Seamus.

"Where's Frey?"

"See to your - Seamus, yes? He should see a face he loves when he wakes."

Aine debated correcting her thinking on that and then changed her mind; because honestly, it was true, after a fashion. She eased to Seamus' side, not sure she could trust her legs to stand right now. His brown eyes met hers and she brushed his shaggy hair back.

"Hey."

"It's not - her, Anni," He said weakly, grabbing at her hand. His grip was very strong, "It's Frey… He's the one-"

He broke off and closed his eyes, his other hand touching his side where the bandages were tightly wrapped. Aine allowed him to keep his hold on her and waited for him to recover. She looked up at Karliah.

"I'm listening."

Karliah's eyes might have flickered for a brief moment, but it was hard to tell; she looked rather untouchable sitting there.

"I was once a member of the guild, as I'm sure Mercer told you, but what he left out was that _he_ was the one that betrayed and killed Gallus."

Aine felt some small part of her rejoicing that she was right about the guildmaster, but it didn't last long. She cocked her head and felt Seamus press her hand as though he agreed with the Elf.

"And then you shot my friend."

"I saved his life. The poison slowed his heart rate, kept him from bleeding out. The chances of Mercer striking again were quite high and he did. I do not know why he left you alone, however," The red eyes went over Aine minutely, making her feel self-conscious, "Can you think of a reason?"

"So we're just going to brush off the fact that you poisoned Seamus? Come on, Karliah, I need-"

"Anni, let her explain."

Seamus' voice was rough and she let him squeeze her fingers as she stilled her temper.

"I told you I saved his life and it cost me dear. That arrow was meant for Mercer, I wanted him alive. It took me a year to perfect that paralytic poison and when the time comes, I don't have a clear shot," Karliah's red eyes flared for a moment and then she settled, her full lips curling into a half-smile. Her tone was much gentler when she added, "I had no desire to harm either of you, even less when I realized you were not part of the Thieves Guild. Leave it to Mercer Frey to included innocent bystanders in his schemes; I do apologize, Aine. I wish neither of you had been here."

Seamus tugged at Aine and she glanced down at him. His color was slowly improving and his pale brown eyes looked a little clearer now. He pressed his free hand to his side and tried to prop himself on the other elbow. Aine put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from hurting himself.

"She's telling the truth. Frey admitted it. _Listen_ to her."

"I thought that was what I was doing," She turned to the Elf again, "Thank you, then, we owe you our lives. Well, Seamus' life. And before you ask, I don't know why Frey would keep me alive either, unless to torture me. He wasn't stupid enough to miss that Seamus and I are close. If I came to and found him dead…" Seamus slid his hand up and gripped her wrist, his gaze warmer than she wanted and she pressed on, "Never mind, let's just do what we can to make the bastard pay."

"I will not lie, Aine, that it is what I've been waiting to hear," Karliah's smile was very cold, "Let me elaborate on our circumstances. I had hoped to keep Mercer alive, to bring him before the rest of the guild and force him to confess. It is only right that he pays for what he's done. Snow Veil Sanctum was not chosen by accident. This is where Mercer betrayed us and before you arrived, I uncovered a journal of Gallus'. The unfortunate part is that it is written in a language I have never seen."

Aine struggled with the fact that this woman had shot Seamus, but there was an open, straight-forward honesty in the Dunmer's face and she found herself believing her more and more as they talked. Seamus still gripped her wrist loosely and she didn't pull away.

"Well, the Thieves Guild is all connections when it's boiled down," She offered with a shrug, "Do you know of anyone within that that might have this knowledge?"

Karliah lost herself in thought and stared over Aine's shoulder at nothing. She reached up with one hand almost idly and twisted a strand of shining black hair around one finger. The only sound was the steady pop and crackle of the wood in the fire and she dropped her hand rather suddenly.

"Of course, Enthir, a friend of Gallus' working at the College of Winterhold. He's - a contact that we used fairly often in the past," Karliah's face relaxed into a soft smile, her mind clearly drifting to the past, "He's a Bosmer sorcerer. He and Gallus met when Gallus snuck into his laboratory to lift an item and found notes out on Enthir's desk. Enthir returned to the laboratory early and when he found Gallus standing there, Gallus commented on something that had been stonewalling Enthir. They started talking and from that point…" She lifted her shoulders, "They became fast friends."

Aine cocked her head. There was something intimate and - tender - in the way the Elf spoke and her mind started working.

"Were you two… involved?"

Karliah merely looked at her for a moment, her face smooth and unreadable. She finally lifted her slender shoulders.

"I suppose there is no use denying this. Yes, Gallus and I were lovers, but that has - no, that's not true. My motivations are not pure. I loved Gallus and Mercer took him from me and I want to see him pay; I can't deny that that does not play a large role here. Yet Mercer is actively destroying the Thieves Guild, my family when all others failed me, and I will not sit idly by and let it continue. He _must_ be stopped."

Aine felt some of her own drive to hunt down Percival in Karliah's voice and she slowly inclined her head. Seamus had managed to sit upright and his quiet hiss of breath was sharp in her ear.

"Understood. So how…" Aine let her voice trail away and her practical side was finally audible now. She had a feeling it had been trying to be heard for a while and she actually listened as it reminded her, in no uncertain terms, of Paarthurnax and the Elder Scroll. They had such a journey ahead of them, getting back to High Hrothgar, and she mentally berated herself for thinking that she could allow this distraction with Karliah and the Guild and not worry about the repercussions. Time weighed heavily on her and she shook her head, meeting Karliah's red gaze, "I'm sorry, Karliah, I can't add this to my worries. There's too much I have - I just can't."

Seamus touched her arm when the Elf's lips parted in surprise.

"Anni-"

"But you've already said he needs to pay. Are you truly telling me you have no desire to assist your brethren?"

Aine straightened with a frown.

"Brethren? I don't… I'm not a part of the Guild. Seamus and I were in Riften looking for Es- someone in particular and I stumbled into a botched initiation for another prospective guild member. I finished what she couldn't and Brynjolf agreed to help me. It was a similar situation with Mercer. I had asked him for information and he apparently thought that killing Seamus and torturing me was a decent payback. And, of course, you mentioned that you already knew this. I have no dog in this fight, Karliah, I just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And yet you are a thief all the same. Don't try to deny it, Aine, our world is quite small and we are more effective if we work together in this calling. This means nothing to you?"

Aine felt her temper flaring and she spread her arms.

"I can talk to this Enthir for you, but I have to bow out after that," It was painful even giving _that_ concession, "It just - I just can't. I can't split myself in too many directions and what I am working on now… I can't."

Karliah looked disappointed for the briefest of flashes and her eyes searched Aine's face closely. Aine didn't drop her gaze and she felt a grim sort of triumph as the Elf lifted her shoulders in something like defeat.

"I will take what I can get. Speaking to Enthir would be a help; I can't be seen in public at this point. My success here is too entwined with concealment to risk that."

"I get it. How are we going to convince Enthir to listen to us?"

"You won't need to. Show him this and he will recognize Gallus' work," Karliah passed the journal to Aine after tearing out a blank page. She took a partially burned twig, knocked the embers from one end, and wrote a few words on the paper with the charcoal, "And after he understands, give him this. He will know where to find me."

Aine felt a twinge. Karliah had been on her own for years and Aine couldn't begin to imagine how hard it'd be if she was in the Elf's position. She had had Meara with her for the past twelve or thirteen years and she didn't think she'd have completed any of her jobs then without her. The thought hurt and she remembered the Elder Scroll in her pack. Her resolve strengthened and she nodded her head.

"I can do that," She looked over at Seamus, "Do you need more time?"

"I think Tal will treat me well. And it's just back to Winterhold."

Aine doubted him, she didn't like his pale face, but she was not in the mood to argue with him now.

"All right, then. Good luck, Karliah, really. Just because I can't help you it doesn't mean that Mercer shouldn't pay. We'll get word to Enthir and I wish you all the best."

"And you as well, Aine, you as well."

* * *

"And we're just taking his word?"

"At least we don't have to deal with our Elf friend on the bridge," Aine answered while Seamus opened the door to the inn.

"What, you don't like having a fan?"

"Oh gods, what a thought!"

Seamus chuckled and Aine dropped the subject, wandering to the bar. The proprietor was wiping down the counter and Frida sent coy looks at Seamus from the other side of the large hall.

"Back again so soon?" The man greeted cheerfully.

"Just for a moment. Do you happen to know where I can find a man by the name of Enthir? One of the men outside said he might be here."

"Aye, his room is just around the corner there."

Enthir was a small-framed Bosmer, his face long and narrow and his bright eyes very intelligent. He cocked his head at Aine and she had the strongest impression of an inquisitive bird.

"Sorry to disturb you. My name is Aine, this is Seamus, and we have a - rather unusual question for you," She stepped forward and pulled the journal from her pack. The room was well-lived in and the alchemy table in one corner bubbled and flashed. There were extra pieces of furniture against the walls and it made it close, but rather homey, "We have this journal here and were told that you might be able to assist in its translation."

Enthir set his mug aside and took the book, flipping it open in his hands. He gave it a once over and then looked up at Aine in surprise.

"You've seen Karliah. This is Gallus' handwriting and she is the only one… Where did she find this?"

"In Snow Veil Sanctum, but as I said we can't-"

"It's written in the Falmer language," Enthir interrupted and continued turning pages, "Leave it to Gallus to use a language only a handful understand. He always was too clever for his own good."

"I don't suppose you're one of that handful?"

Enthir glanced up at Seamus and then met Aine's gaze again. He held the book on his thighs and let out a little sigh that didn't bode well.

"I'm sorry, but what I can do is point you to someone who can."

Aine held up one hand, stopping his flow of words and settling into one of the free chairs across from him.

"Karliah is the one who needs to know and she told me to give you this if you had an answer for her," She passed him the note, "She said that you would know where to meet or send word. Seamus and I are just passing along the message."

Enthir smiled when he saw the scrawled words and folded the note once more. He tipped his head at Aine again.

"You are letting her do this alone?"

"We just met her, Enthir, and I have other - tasks - that need my full attention. Karliah understood and asked us to do just this for her."

"One of the people that can translate this is a man by the name of Calcelmo who works and lives in the Understone Keep in Markarth. He runs the museum and his primary research has been into the Falmer race. His research is unmatched and he has spent the past twenty or twenty-five years gathering everything he can get his hands on. The museum is heavily guarded and Calcelmo keeps the only key on him. He has arranged for a intensive screening process for entry to his laboratory and the museum is currently closed for a revision, with guards patrolling inside and out. And you don't think Karliah will need help with this?"

"What have I missed? Is the guild in the practice of guilt-wielding now?" Seamus cut in, his voice almost incredulous, "I thought that was one thing we _weren't_ supposed to feel. Makes the job easier when you aren't worried about what it means to others."

Enthir lifted his shoulders, brushing that aside and Aine gave Seamus a smile.

"It was worth a shot. I'll meet up with Karliah and we'll probably get killed in the process of stealing what we need. All the best, you two."

"Nice try, Enthir," Aine got to her feet and shook the Bosmer's hand, "From what I've heard and definitely after meeting her, I think Karliah is most likely one of the best thieves the guild has ever seen and you are no slouch. She's not the type to involve herself with someone that will let the ball drop. You two will pass with flying colors."

"Nightingales are elite for a reason."

Seamus snorted.

"Nightingales? Mixing legends in now?"

Enthir glanced between them and Aine wondered if this was part of the ploy or real surprise.

"You said Karliah was one of the best and that's true. So were Gallus and Mercer. The Nightingales keep the cloud of legend for their own safety, but they are very real. That's why Karliah wants Mercer gone; why Mercer _has_ to go."

"You've known where she was this whole time? Actually, I'm not surprised by that. Concealment is lonely and now we're off-track," Aine waved at Seamus, "We have to keep moving, Enthir. I'm sorry we can't help you, but I wish you all the luck."

"I wouldn't say good-bye just yet, Aine, your kind have a way of popping up in places you least expect."

"All part of the job, Enthir.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** I was going to go ahead and pat myself on the back for actually posting early, but since I've done such a poor job of it lately, I decided I don't really deserve that. So instead I will just say enjoy, take care, and all the best. And of course, a million thanks to all you patient readers! Oh, and I can't claim any ownership of the dragons' conversation, that's all Bethesda. (They knew what they were doing!)

* * *

The trip south to Ivarstead was lengthy, but uneventful. Aine refused to be mothered by Seamus and they utilized Tal and Lettie rather than the carriage. The mounts were thrilled to be put to use and the weather was just as changeable as ever. They reached the little village during the night and Aine stabled the horses, ignored Seamus' protests, and started up the pilgrims path. It was a rare clear night, the stars winked in the sky, and the moonshine gleamed bright on the snow. The light was enough to see without the assistance of a torch and though there was an occasional rustle in the bushes, the only wildlife they saw was an owl that swooped silently overhead before diving sharply to snatch at some unfortunate creature.

High Hrothgar was dark and still, but the door was not locked and they stepped gratefully into the warm foyer. The faint crackle of the fire was the only sound and Seamus bent closer.

"What now?"

"I need to talk to Paarthurnax," She dropped her pack onto one of the chairs and pulled the Elder Scroll free. Her bow, arrows, and matching set of daggers were added as well and she rifled to make sure she had everything she needed in her belt pouches, "And you know you can't come with me, Seamus. But hey, everyone's asleep and now's your chance. Snoop and pilfer to your heart's content, I shouldn't be long."

"Are you sure?"

"Would you rather I wake up Arngeir and have him babysit you?"

"Better get moving and be careful."

He gave her shoulder a gentle push and she crossed to the door that led out to the courtyard. The moonlight seemed even brighter here, casting long shadows across the glittering snow. She made her way back up the path that clung to the top of the mountain and felt she was finally getting the hang of using her Shouts to clear the way.

Paarthurnax made an impressive gargoyle on top of one of the jagged peaks and his sharp face turned from the stars to Aine when she stepped into the flat expanse here.

"The Kel is with you. Tiid kreh… qalos. The Time shuddered as you drew near."

Aine held the scroll in both hands. She didn't unwrap it yet and she looked up at the dragon.

"I do indeed."

"Doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The bones of the world are at your disposal, dovah."

"How do I use it?"

"Take it to the time wound," Paarthurnax tipped his head toward the word wall, "Open it and you will learn."

She glanced between the wrapped scroll and Paarthurnax and then nodded once. She heard him shift on his perch and saw a shimmer in the air as she got closer to the wall. She stepped into its center and flipped the linen wrap open. The scroll was beautiful in the moonlight, gleaming soft gold and she clasped it in one hand to pull the parchment free of its case.

Instantly, the runes inscribed on the page lit white-blue. Her first impression was a labyrinth, though there were definite words within this. The light grew brighter and brighter and seemed to lift from the parchment. Aine wasn't able to look away and she felt its power erupt around her. Something pulled on her, like it was attempting to suck her into its center, and everything around her disappeared in a blinding flash of white. She finally managed to close her eyes and when they opened, she stumbled back before she could help it.

She was staring through a tunnel of the runes. She just caught them in the corners of her eyes and when she looked straight ahead, the sky was on fire. Orange and red glowed from every direction and the wind whipped around the peaks. She started to call Paarthurnax's name and then heard a voice shout.

"We're running out of time! Gormlaith, the battle is-"

"Daar sul thur se Alduin vokrii. Alduin's lordship will be restored."

Aine stepped back even more. A Nord ran in front of her and slid across the snow before turning about with his axe in his hands. The dragon's deep voice was unmistakable and one crouched on its powerful legs to her right. She searched for cover and then remembered her conversation with Paarthurnax about time standing still here. She was watching this unfold; yes, from a front row seat, but she was just a spectator. Not that that made it any less unsettling.

"I honor your courage, joor. Krif voth ahkrin. Die now, in vain."

The dragon took a step back and the Nord darted forward.

"For Skyrim!"

He swung the axe powerfully, sidestepping the gout of flames the dragon spewed. The Nord stepped again, keeping the dragon focused on him and Aine just registered a shadow in the corner of her eye. Another form leapt at the monster, using its front leg as a launching point to jump onto the thing's neck.

"Know that Gormlaith sent you to your death, beast!"

It was a woman's voice and she raised a huge sword to drive into the back of the dragon's neck. The beast screeched and then fell forward in the snow. Gormlaith held tight and yanked her blade free, jumping from the dragon's body.

"Hakon, glorious battle, isn't it?"

"You should give thought to other matters as well, Gorm," The Nord held his axe tight in one hand and moved to the edge of the peak to look below, "The battle is not going well. We need Alduin to jump to our challenge. If he doesn't, I fear all may be lost."

"Peace, brother, he won't be able to resist. Victory will be ours."

"Why does he not attack? We put everything into this plan, old man."

Hakon was clearly not convinced and he turned back as Gormlaith moved forward as well. Aine turned to see who they were talking to. It was a third figure and he raised one hand.

"He will come. He will not ignore our challenge and why should he fear us?"

"Four of his own have already been mine," Gormlaith was fierce and proud and Aine recognized the type that normally drove her absolutely mad, "That is enough to fear, yes?"

"Do not grow lax and arrogant, Gormlaith. We have already lost several: Sorri, Birkir, Gal-"

"Take heart, Felldir. We have Dragonrend and they didn't. When we bring him down, I will have his head."

Aine perked at this and she stepped forward a little. Here was what she had been hoping to see and hear.

"You still fail to understand, Gormlaith. Alduin cannot be slain like his brethren. None of us are strong enough," Felldir looked swiftly at Hakon and the Nord straightened even more if that was possible. Even through the distracting ruins and with the confusing welter of red and orange behind him, Aine saw him narrow his eyes at the older man, "Which is why I have brought the Elder Scroll with me."

"Felldir! We agreed not to use it."

"No, Hakon, I did not agree," Felldir's voice was sharp and Aine had taken a few steps forward before she realized, "If I am correct in my thinking - and I do not know why I would not be - we will not need it."

"You mean if _I_ am right, I'm sure."

Hakon wasn't asking and Gormlaith raised her blade, her whole body tensing in response to what she saw approaching.

"Enough, you two. We will find out soon enough. Here he comes."

Aine took an involuntary step back when a familiar dragon swooped low towards them. He came in fast and when he landed on top of the word wall, the whole peak shook.

"Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!"

Gormlaith raised her sword above her head and didn't back down from the intimidating creature that looked like sheer malevolence.

"May those in Sovngarde envy us this day!"

Felldir and Hakon stepped up in line with her and together they Shouted.

"Joor Zah Frul!"

A flash of blue light erupted around Alduin and he started up into the air with a screech. He managed about a dozen feet and then fell back to the peak. He stomped his clawed feet and shook his head. There was an unmistakable look of fear or worry about him, though Aine wasn't sure how this was accomplished. And the sudden flood of the power of this Shout _was_ somewhat distracting.

"Nivahriin joarre! What is this? What Words did you create?! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! I will feast upon his neck!" He slammed his front feet down and the three warriors staggered when the mountain shook again. His eyes were on fire, "But first… dir ko maar! You will die in terror, knowing I came for you even in Sovngarde!"

"If I die, worm, it will be removing your head from your deplorable body!" Gormlaith returned and started forward.

Felldir Shouted and flew to her assistance while Hakon looped around to flank Alduin.

"Skyrim shall be freed!"

Aine watched the battle unfold. The warriors were incredible and the way they worked together was enviable. They seemed to have a sixth sense about where each of the others were in the field and - unbelievably - they seemed to be gaining the upper hand with the dragon. He tossed his head about, swinging his powerful tail and spewing flames whenever he had the chance. It looked an even match for a time and then Alduin swung his head, knocking Gormlaith out of the way and shifting again to focus his attention on Hakon and Felldir. Hakon kept the dragon working on him as Felldir stepped back and pulled out a familiar looking case.

It was the Elder Scroll and Aine watched even more closely. He had moved closer to her and lifted the scroll above his head.

"Sister Hawk, grant us your scared breath to make this conflict heard! Begone, Alduin Eater of Worlds! By words older than your bones we break your hold on this age and send you out! You are banished, we Shout you out from this world's endings unto the last!" Power erupted from the scroll and enveloped the dragon. His movements slowed to the point of ineffectiveness and a cloud of greyish-white surrounded him, "You are banished!"

With a bright white flash, Alduin disappeared and Felldir held for a moment before letting his hands drop. He stepped forward.

"Alduin the World-Eater is gone. May the gods have mercy on our souls."

The runes spun again and Aine felt the tug of the power. Everything happened in reverse and she had to close her eyes against the sickening blur of runes. She was aware of the cold breeze first and she felt like her feet were placed firmly on the ground again. She staggered a bit and then immediately reacted when she heard a rumbling voice above her.

"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. Your mortal souls have kept me satisfied for generations, Dovahkiin. You will die now and await your fate in your Sovngarde!"

Aine cursed roundly, dropping the scroll into the snow and yanking her bow from her shoulders. Paarthurnax was nowhere to be seen and she dove toward the meager protection of the boulders around the word wall when Alduin swooped low overhead. He banked sharply and headed straight for her. She knocked an arrow and dropped to one knee, taking careful aim as the dragon sped toward her. She was a breath away from loosing the arrow when Paarthurnax's dark grey body collided with Alduin and she heard his voice echo about the peak.

"Lost funt. You are too late, Alduin!"

The dragons tumbled away and Aine had a brief moment to reconnoiter. She found a slightly more defensible place and waited for a clear shot before Alduin and Paarthurnax split apart and Paarthurnax glided low overhead.

"Remember why you are here, dovah, use the Shout!"

Aine blinked and then dropped her bow arm and Shouted when Alduin flew overhead after Paarthurnax. As usual, the right words came without her having to do anything special and the Shout hit him in the belly. It knocked him sideways and his wings flapped uselessly as he fell to the peak. He landed on his side and Aine took her chance while he attempted to get to his feet. She knocked the arrow again and shot him in the underside of his neck. He roared in pain and anger and Paarthurnax rained down fire on him.

Aine ducked her head against the intense heat and Alduin roared again. This one sounded different and she looked up to see him spreading his wings. She felt shaky and exhausted, but she tried anyway. The Shout didn't feel nearly as strong and she knocked two arrows, letting them fly. They embedded deep into Alduin's neck beside the first and he screeched. Paarthurnax landed in front of him and more flames erupted.

Alduin was on his feet and he swung his body, whipping at Paarthurnax with his tail when he faced Aine's hiding place. He gave his own Shout and she pressed herself against the wall when the flames scorched the air around her. She felt the intense heat against her back and she threw herself down into the snow when she realized her bow had caught fire. The dragon's stomping feet was the only thing she could hear for a moment and then she heard the swish of the wings. She arched up and let out another Shout, grounding Alduin again.

His voice sounded and though it was soft, Aine felt certain it was curse-laden. He Shouted at her in return and she let another few arrows loose. They found their mark and Paarthurnax let out another gout of flames. Alduin was definitely weakening and Aine ventured from her protection when the beast turned his attention to Paarthurnax. She acted quickly, dipping the heads of the next four arrows into a bottle of potent poison. Two of these sank into the dragon's flesh and the others bounced harmlessly away.

Alduin screeched, flapped his wings, and got nowhere. His head dropped and Aine felt herself waiting before she fired again. The fletchings were almost warm in her fingers and she had to make a _very_ conscious effort to keep from shooting.

"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have a strength," Alduin sounded rather breathless; a good thing as far as Aine was concerned, "However I am Al-du-in, firstborn of the Akatosh! Melagi zok loft. I cannot be slain in this world, not by you or any of the mortal kind. You cannot prevail against me; I will outlast you!"

Alduin spread his wings and lifted from the ground. He circled once and then flew off, leaving Aine and Paarthurnax alone. Aine let out a sigh and had to catch herself against one of the nearby boulders when her legs gave up on her. Paarthurnax turned and came closer. She investigated the end of the bow where it had caught. There were some decent scorch marks and she would have to ask Seamus about new twine.

"He left," She said quietly when Paarthurnax lowered his face and stared steadily at her, "I didn't expect that."

"Lot krongrah. You posses the voice of the Dovah. Alduin sees this and his allies will think twice after hearing of this victory."

She smiled at him and would have reached out to touch his nose if her hands were steady, but she didn't want him to see how affected she was by the conflict.

"I don't think I could have managed without you, Paarthurnax, you have my very grateful thanks. I only regret we couldn't finish him off."

"Indeed, this is not the final krongrah, yet you saw that not even the heroes of old were capable of destroying him. Alduin was forever pahlok - arrogant in his power. He believed domination was his birthright. Your success here will shake the loyalty of those dov that follow him."

Aine glanced away where Alduin had disappeared and shifted her weight against the boulder. Her side was aching and though the trembling in her legs was going away, she still didn't think she could manage to stand upright. Her fingers played with the bow string and Paarthurnax edged his sharp face closer to her.

"Do you know where he goes when he leaves like this? I mean, does he have a home as you do?"

Paarthurnax blinked his large yellow eyes.

"Perhaps one of his allies could tell us. Motmahus… It will not be easy to convince one of them to betray him."

"And what part of this has been easy?"

He tipped his head and actually managed to look amused.

"Perhaps the hofskahsejun… Dragonsreach in Whiterun. The palace was built to house captive dov. It might be a fine place to trap one of Alduin's own."

Aine's lips parted and she stared at him. She almost dropped the bow and she tightened her hold again and straightened.

"I - I think the jarl might have some trepidation about that one, Paarthurnax. I don't know how the hell I'll convince him; even if it is using Dragonsreach how it's supposed to be used."

"Lok, Thu'um, but you must try."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Aine pushed from the boulder, slung her bow back, and pressed her hand to the space between Paarthurnax's nostrils. His eyes softened and he gave her slow blink, "Well, I'll see what Arngeir says about this. Thank you again, you have no idea how I appreciate your help."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** And here I was doing so well! Next installment and Skyrim is not mine. Enjoy and take care!

* * *

He nudged her gently and gave another blink before stepping back. Aine had to search for a moment before she recovered the scroll where she had dropped it and then, after another wave at the old dragon, she made her way down to High Hrothgar. Knowing Seamus well led her to Arngeir's office where she found him happily going through the contents of a very ornate little box on the man's desk.

"You know he'll see if you damaged the locks."

"Come on, Anni, give me a little credit," Seamus waved dismissively, "I may not have your touch, but I think I can open a simple lock without causing undue stress to anything. How'd it go? Did you learn your yell?"

She almost corrected him and then changed her mind, craving heat more than a desire to scold. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth and she wandered that way after tossing her bow to him.

"I did indeed and can you fix that for me? I'm worried the stress will snap that twine when I need it most and I don't want you getting rusty."

Seamus inspected the bow and forgot the little box. He stood and frowned at her, his eyes concerned.

"What the hell, Aine? Did your big scaly friend turn on you?"

"Not at all. In fact I'd probably be dead if not for him," She forwent a chair and dropped to the thick rug in front of the fire, extending her hands once she pulled her gloves off. The wave of heat made her feel even more sleepy, "Alduin turned up while I… I need to start from the beginning, don't I?"

"If you don't I'll be a bit miffed with you."

She grinned up at him when he came closer and welcomed the glass of wine he offered. He settled on a footstool beside her and leaned her bow against one of the chairs. His expression was anxious despite his teasing and she fought the urge to let him stew.

"Miffed? That's putting it very lightly."

She took a deep drink of the wine and then set the goblet down and told him everything. Seamus listened raptly, his face darkening when she mentioned Alduin's attack and he reached out to tug at her hair when she finished.

"So that's what that's from," He said and she frowned, reaching up to feel the scorched hair where Alduin's flames had skirted her, "I didn't think it had come from Snow Veil. Hell, Anni-"

"You couldn't come with me, so stop. I'm tired, Seamus, I might just lay here on the floor and sleep for a bit. I need to talk to Arngeir in the morning about our next steps," She glanced at the desk behind her, "And you may want to clean that up before too long. I have no idea what time it is, but I have the feeling these old men will know that they have visitors before they even see us."

She didn't wait for an answer, instead she shrugged out of her breastplate, belt and boots, grabbed a pillow from one of the chairs, and curled on the thick fur rug. Heat radiated around her and she closed her eyes, smiling a little when Seamus draped a blanket over her.

"Night, Anni, I'll pester you in the morning."

"Good night, Seamus."

* * *

The soft sounds of movement and enticing scent of coffee woke Aine the next morning. She blinked, staring at the bed of embers glowing in the hearth. Moving slowly, still feeling the ache in her side, she sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Seamus slept on a small couch near her and she turned to face the room.

Arngeir was sitting at his desk - which she was pleased to see had returned to its normal neatness - going over a pile of parchment. She wrapped the blanket around her and placed a few small logs on the bed of coals. The Greybeard glanced up and nodded, but did not speak until she came closer and poured herself a mug of coffee from the thick pottery carafe.

"Good morning."

"Sorry to take up your office," She replied and settled into one of the chairs in front of the large desk, "We got in late and didn't want to disturb anyone."

"Not at all, Ysmir. I hope you were successful?"

Aine tipped her pack closer from its resting place against the desk and retrieved the scroll. She laid it across his work with a reverence that seemed _so_ foreign and watched his eyes flicker. The Greybeard did not express any vocal astonishment or elation at having this item within reach, but his eyes couldn't be so carefully guarded. They lit from within and he took up the scroll, weighing it in his hands and examining the gold finish minutely.

"You managed. It is truly an Elder Scroll of old. Your next step-"

"I've already spoken with Paarthurnax and opened the scroll in the time wound. Dragonrend is mine to use and I have already done so a few times. I'm actually kind of surprised-"

"Dragonrend was used?" Arngeir's eyes flashed up to hers and she was taken aback by the sudden venom she saw there, "On Paarthurnax? If this is true, Ysmir-"

"Let me finish," Aine heard the sharp, violent edge in her voice and she took a few sips of coffee, trying to tell herself that the Greybeard shouldn't suffer just because she needed the caffeine. His suspicion that she would actually hurt Paarthurnax after he had been so good to her was secondary and the ridiculousness of it didn't strike her as anything odd; for the moment, "The scroll sent me to Felldir, Hakon, and Gormlaith's fight with Alduin, as an observer; and allowed me to learn the Dragonrend Shout. I watched as Felldir locked Alduin in that moment, freezing him in time until now, and when the scene was concluded, Alduin was a _very_ real presence in this era. Paarthurnax helped me defeat him in battle. Not completely, don't misunderstand me. But we sent him back to whatever post he calls home and Paarthurnax suggested catching one of his fellow dragons in an attempt to learn where that is."

"Which means Dragonsreach," Arngeir forgot his fear and anger over the perceived belief that his master was dead and he gazed over Aine's shoulder, obviously lost in thought, "Jarl Balgruuf will need to be convinced."

"I know, therein lies my concern and probably a fairly substantial problem," Aine finished her coffee and poured more, topping off Arngeir's mug as well, "Hell, would any of us be easily convinced to allow a dragon to be held captive in our cities? And never mind that Dragonsreach was constructed for such a thing. What do you recommend?"

Arngeir's brows lifted slightly and he took a sip of coffee before venturing an answer.

"Be honest. The man values this more than all else. If he believes you are hiding something from him, it guarantees he will not help. And he must know to take precaution for his people."

Aine nodded her head. It was clear enough that she really hadn't needed to ask. Balgruuf had already struck her as a man of his word and those traits seemed to go hand in hand.

"Fair enough. The only other problem is how I'm going to lure a dragon to Whiterun."

"Make your presence known, Ysmir. Alduin's fellow dragons will be eager to help in this and if they believe that they can destroy you for him, they will do so."

"The idea is to find one that will _help_ me," Aine replied dryly, "If I best one and capture it in Dragonsreach, how likely do you think it is that it'll tell me where Alduin hides?"

"Very. The dragons will follow the one they see as most powerful. Alduin's soldiers will test you to find out for themselves and when you best one of them, it will be yours to use. Loyalty for them only extends to strength and skill. If you best their leader and then one of them-"

"He'll be mine until I am bested," Aine raised her mug, "Cheers."

* * *

"This won't go well."

"Way to be supportive, Seamus. I'm sure that will help me greatly with Balgruuf," Aine's voice was dry and sarcastic, "Thanks, any other words of encouragement?"

Seamus grinned down at her and then glanced over at the tavern, his eyes lighting even more.

"We could make it a little easier."

"Not a chance. Balgruuf is already going to resist, why give him more of a reason to tell us no? I can come back for you, if you want to stop."

"Not a chance, Anni. I'm not going to miss the opportunity of seeing you dance around this with Balgruuf. It's way too good to pass up."

It was early afternoon and Dragonsreach was quietly busy. Balgruuf wasn't in the main hall and one of the aides led the way to a set of stairs in the corner. The sound of voices drifted down and the aide gestured them to wait at the top of the steps before approaching Balgruuf and the handful of men that stood with him. They surrounded a war table, the small flags bright against the aged map, and one corner of the table was stacked with a sheaf of letters and reports.

"Lady Aine, welcome back," Balgruuf waved the aide aside, looked curiously at Seamus, and then turned his attention to Aine, "How can we help you?"

Aine shot a look at the others and then met the jarl's gaze.

"Can we speak privately, sir? I have a - question for you."

The jarl studied her for a moment and then jerked his head in a nod. The others immediately melted away and Balgruuf sat in one of the chairs against the wall. His brows arched up.

"You look troubled, Aine. Is your conscience plaguing you about the money you've extorted?"

She snorted and leaned her hip on the table. This was a perfect icebreaker and she gave him a mischievous smile.

"Come, jarl, you know my own are more concerned about how to get _more_. Don't delude yourself," She felt Seamus gearing up to cut in and she pressed on before he got the chance, "No, I'm afraid we have a favor to ask. A Dragonborn favor. The Greybeards - yeah, we'll go with that - they think that I can find Alduin's hiding spot or post if we trap one of his allies. Unfortunately this means drawing one here, to Dragonsreach. That should teach you to make your home in a trap meant for the things, right?"

Balgruuf's hand dropped from where it had stroked through his beard and he gaped at Aine. She remained as neutral as possible, even going so far as to picking up one of the little flags. It immediately went dark in her hand and she was truly distracted then. She pressed it to its spot and watched as it lit with the Stormcloaks' blue. Fascinated, she nudged it closer to one of the Imperials' red and it changed to match. Seamus let out a little breath and Aine inspected it again, wondering how the hell they had made them work. Balgruuf plucked it from her fingers a moment later and she glanced up at him.

"Those are rather expensive and I have no intention of letting you lift one. And forgive me, but I'm pretty damn sure you just told me that you want to trap a dragon here."

Aine shrugged her shoulders, feigning a calm she was far from feeling.

"I suppose you never can tell what someone is thinking, can you? Yes, jarl, that's what I asked."

"Are you crazy?"

"Probably."

Seamus grunted when Aine elbowed him in the gut and she stepped forward a little, her hand brushing across the flags again. Balgruuf watched her closely and she fought the urge to tuck one into her sleeve.

"I'm not sure on that one, but I _can_ tell you that I'm serious. I know you're familiar with Alduin and he's the reason we must do this. The 'Eater of Worlds' can't win this one."

Balgruuf lost himself in thought and Aine allowed a brief moment of incredulity that he went for that. Seamus earned another elbow nudge and she shifted herself toward the jarl. His dark eyes met hers and he straightened his shoulders; Aine felt her heart sink a bit. That was never a good sign.

"I'd like to help you, Aine, really I would. You fought for us against that dragon - granted you were paid for it - but you didn't have to assist us. I still feel I owe you and now I've just put that weapon in your very talented hands."

"But?"

"But I have some very real concerns about the two armies that have pressured me since day one," Balgruuf's hands moved over those little flags now and he studied the map. The colors appeared even and Aine saw for herself that they _were_ pretty much both bearing down on Whiterun, "I can't divide my attention into thirds. Ulfric and Tullius are just waiting for their moment to strike and if Whiterun is left unguarded… I can't, Aine, I'm sorry."

She looked at the map again and noticed the difference in the flags at Solitude and Windhelm. They were larger, more ornate, and she let out a sighed curse. She pressed her palm to the rough wooden surface.

"You could just come right out and ask."

"And that would make a difference?"

"It might not change my answer, but it would change my reaction to it. Be honest with me, jarl, I think I've been pretty honest with you here."

"And you have. My apologies, Aine, I'm so used to… Never mind, you don't care. If you could settle a temporary peace between the two sides so we can deal with Alduin, I'll be more than happy and willing to help you."

"I know Ulfric, but who's Tullius?"

Balgruuf returned to his chair and sent a glance at Seamus who was rifling through the shelves against the wall. Aine didn't bother herself with her friend, he would do what he wanted. She arched her brows at Balgruuf and almost asked again when the man finally answered.

"It's General Tullius, leader of the Imperial forces here in Skyrim, and a pain in the ass to deal with," Balgruuf spoke plainly and Aine appreciated it, it was what she had asked for, "At least Ulfric will tell you straight off what the problem is. Tullius likes to play word games and beat around the bush while knowing all along he's going to do _exactly_ what he wants no matter what you say."

"I can sympathize. No, Seamus, not now," Aine didn't need to turn and see Seamus' expression change, she just knew him too well, "I'll do what I can, jarl, but I can't go back to Solitude, I won't. Do you have spare parchment and a quill?"

The jarl's face was concerned and rather confused, but he nodded his head and leaned forward. The drawer he pulled out was packed with more missives and a pile of clean paper, as well as an ivory and silver inkwell. The quill was made from an extravagant peacock feather and she made a face before she could help it.

"Anything less ostentatious?"

"Sorry, Aine, it's official," Balgruuf gave her a smile, a genuine smile, and she felt a sudden kinship with him that was a good thing. The man was ordinary and she appreciated that more than anything else, "Fitting, right? At least they'll have to take you seriously."

"Invoking the Greybeards' name and authority should do the same as well," Aine lifted her shoulders when she took the supplies from the jarl, "Yes, that's an assumption I shouldn't make, but I can't help it. This is the only thing I could think of that would excuse my actual absence from both Solitude and Windhelm. Do you have a place I can write those letters? It looked like you were in the middle of something when we came up to interrupt."

Balgruuf nodded and got to his feet, ringing a small silver bell. The aide appeared from nowhere and after a brief instruction, led Aine and Seamus back down the steps and to a small office off of the main hall. Seamus found just as much to distract himself here as he had upstairs and Aine took a long moment to consider how she wanted to word this.

There was nothing for it, her words to Balgruuf came back to her and she utilized the Greybeards influence as fully as she possibly could. Surely they'd understand, right?


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:** Happy belated Thanksgiving to all of you and I hope and trust that you are doing well! I know, I'm late... again. And let me apologize about a thousand times for that! Enjoy the next installment and hopefully (fingers _and_ toes crossed) I will be here next week. All the best!

* * *

"You have done _what?!_ "

Aine expected venom from Arngeir, but not nearly to this level. He looked _very_ pissed off and she found herself second-guessing her reasoning here. It had been a gamble, writing those letters in the Greybeards' name and now she had to deal with the consequences. She steeled herself and felt Seamus' unspoken support behind her.

"I know, Arngeir. I spoke before consulting with you and I probably shouldn't have done that, but High Hrothgar is the only place completely neutral in this fight and we can't let that go. Tullius and Ulfric would not agree to meet anywhere else and I had to improvise on an impulse," She found the lie much easier to confess than she ever would have thought and Arngeir merely stared at her, "Do you really think that your comrades are willing to let this slide without at least an _attempt_ at making things better?"

The Greybeard looked malevolent for a moment, but just for a moment, and then his expression eased. He glanced down at the paperwork on his desk and busied himself for a moment. Aine waited for him to respond, knowing firsthand how difficult it was to admit such a fault.

"I suppose not, but that does not change-"

"That's not news to me. Just answer my request, please. If you can't then I need to make some serious changes."

Arngeir fell silent a second time and Seamus radiated impatience. Aine put one hand out to brush his arm and he rolled his eyes at her.

"That is fair enough," Arngeir's voice was slow, easy, and he shifted his weight. Aine wondered if he felt her shortening temper, "I understand why this was done, Ysmir. Please do not misunderstand me, I just wish that you would have warned us."

"Time wasn't on my side, Arngeir, and I'm sorry for that. But Tullius and Ulfric will be here within hours. Should I tell them that we need to reconnoiter or are you willing to let this slide? If we have to relocate, I'll need some time to find a new place to negotiate this temporary peace."

Arngeir looked put out, but his eyes flicked and she took this as a good sign. He let out a quiet sigh.

"You can use High Hrothgar, but I am not happy. You-"

"It's not a mystery, trust me. In fact, you should definitely use this to your advantage. You'll probably never see such a perfect scenario."

Arngeir looked mollified and Aine turned to Seamus when the Greybeard shifted his attention to what actually mattered. Seamus looked amused and rather put out, and Aine had just enough time to wonder why before the Greybeard answered.

"All right, we will lend our assistance. You can meet with Tullius and Ulfric here. We will do our best to remain impartial."

"Great, thanks. Do you need any help preparing?"

"I believe you have done enough, Ysmir," Arngeir was all gravity and he stood to his full height, "We will do what is necessary. Prepare yourself, these men have been at odds for such a length of time that this cannot be pleasant."

Aine arched her brows at Seamus as Arngeir left the room.

"Well, this should be interesting," He wandered to the desk and cast a quick glance at the open doorway, "How much do you think I can get through?"

She let out a soft laugh and moved her pack to lean it against one of the chairs near the fireplace. Her palm pressed to her side, the wound taking its time with the healing process.

"Everything, but I have some doubt about it all getting put together again. Not that I would put it past you."

Seamus winked at her and helped himself to one of the drawers. Aine clucked her tongue and turned her attention to the paperwork crammed into one of the outside pockets of the pack. The bulge there had been annoying her and she intended to take full advantage of this situation. She started through the mess and noted that Seamus seemed to be doing the same. His brows drew together as he concentrated on the pile of correspondence. Save the rustling of pages and the occasional snort of disbelief from his spot, silence reigned in the office. Aine was surprised at just how much was stuffed into that pocket. Slips of receipts from bags lifted from people and counters alike, a handful of badly spelt and wildly suggestive love letters that she didn't remember gathering, map fragments which had long ago served their usefulness, and a few notes from Delphine. These were written with all the sternness of the woman's voice and Aine could practically hear the words…

She glanced up quite suddenly and met Seamus' surprised gaze.

"Little Lady Blade?"

Aine cocked her head and heard Delphine even more clearly. Seamus was right. She started to her feet and found her hand pressing to her side again. The pile of papers on Arngeir's desk was smoothed immaculately into place and Aine threw her own handful back into the top of the pack. Delphine appeared in the doorway to the office a moment later, Esbern behind her, and a very harassed-looking Arngeir at his elbow.

"Here you are. I want you to take care of him."

The absence of a normal greeting didn't strike Aine, this was Delphine after all, but the demand made her blink. She frowned and glanced quickly at Seamus.

"What-"

"Do not listen to this Blade, Ysmir. She does not understand what she asks."

"Aine-"

"This is fun."

Seamus was chipper and he sent a grin around at all of them.

"That's not exactly the word I'd use. Try again, you two, and this time include me in the conversation. I don't know when the others will be here, but this guessing game will run way too long, I can tell you that already."

Aine's words earned a laugh from Seamus and Delphine shot a look over her shoulder at Arngeir. The Greybeard promptly pushed past her into the room and he replaced Seamus behind his desk. It was a rather shrewd move. The power in the room now belonged to him, all because he positioned that impressive piece of furniture between himself and the rest of them. Esbern entered with Delphine and the Breton commanded the conversation.

"These men have been harboring a dragon for generations. A _dragon_ , Aine. They use him as a sort of oracle, this one claims he is the master of their order. It's an abomination, that filthy beast being allowed to live here even as the Blades have passed out of the era and almost out of human knowledge. I demand that you do something about it, you have-"

"Excuse me, Delphine, I don't _have_ to do anything you demand," Aine interrupted sharply, her temper heating. She watched Delphine's eyes flash, but it meant nothing. The idea that the woman could snap her fingers and expect Aine to jump just… "You _have_ to remember, I am not a Blade. And there's no way in hell that I'm going to off Paarthurnax just because you don't like the idea of him living in seclusion here. Bothering no one. Leaving villages, towns, and people to their own devices and never singeing a hair on anyone's head. The nerve!"

"You have a name for him, old man?"

"It's his name, Delphine, just like yours or mine. And that doesn't have to do with anything."

"You really will allow this abomination? They're a plague, Aine, if you allow one to live free in all of this chaos when dealing with Alduin, it's hypocritical at best and utterly deceitful at worst. The Greybeards have helped you, I understand that you don't want to hurt them, but in light of everything, you can't tell me this is a good idea."

"No? Just give me a minute."

"Her mind is made up, Delphine, she will not dispatch him."

Aine waved her hand at Esbern with a nod and watched as Delphine's face darkened even more.

"Listen to Esbern. I'm not going to kill Paarthurnax for you. If it causes this much heartache, you'll have to do it yourself," She spread her arms and winced when her side gave a twinge, "Although that's not going to be an easy task and I'm pretty sure Arngeir and his brothers will have more than a few things to say about that."

"And you'll stand by and let them win the argument," Delphine snapped and she looked so murderous Aine didn't blame Seamus for suddenly crowding her, "You're a bull-headed fool, Aine, but I never expected _this_ from you."

"Stop wielding guilt like it's your only option and consider this: without that 'filthy abomination' up there, this parley would never have come about. We'd still be flailing at Alduin with a single woman that knows a mere handful of Shouts, weapons made of steel and wood, and no ability to ground the thing before he turns all of us into dust and ash. No, Delphine, I'm sorry, but no. You've helped me and I'll never forget it, and so has Paarthurnax. He will continue to live out his remaining years here, unmolested by me, and you'll just have to reconcile that thought."

Delphine studied Aine's face for a long moment and then seemed to deflate a bit. But only for a blink. She straightened herself once more and inclined her head.

"I suppose that's that then. You have made your choice and we must make ours. Sky Haven is no longer open to you, Aine. The Blades are sworn to protect this world from the dragons and if you are not willing to dispatch one, the Blades will no longer be at your disposal."

"Interesting, especially considering you yourselves told me Sky Haven was meant for the Dragonborn," Aine heard the dry sarcasm in her voice and as tempting as it was to continue torturing them about this, she had the feeling they were running out of time and they had to provide a united front to Tullius and Ulfric, "But we can deal with that later, we have more important things to consider. Since you two somehow know that Paarthurnax exists, you know what our plan here is with the Imperials and Stormcloaks. I'd welcome your company in the negotiations if you are willing to stay in the same room as me."

"Our presence here was twofold. Since our first intention has fallen through, we will certainly do our best with the second," Esbern was gentle where Delphine had been abrupt and confrontational, though his eyes were just as flinty as hers, "Something must be done."

"Which is why we're here," Aine glanced at Arngeir, "Happy?"

"I did not for a moment believe you would follow through, Ysmir."

"Convenient."

Seamus would have added more, but one of the other Greybeards appeared in the doorway and interrupted whatever nonsense he'd been about to spew. Arngeir spoke with his brother too quietly for them to hear and then faced the room once more.

"It is time."

Aine followed Arngeir into a large room she hadn't yet seen. The walls were decorated in the Nords' geometrical design and the huge stone table dominated. It was in the shape of an 'o', a stone hearth had been built in the center and the warmth radiated around its diameter. Its surface was at least three feet wide and the table stretched across the center of the room, fifteen feet from one outside edge to the next. The chairs were also made of stone and the designs much more intricate. The smell of smoke and coffee pervaded and one of the other Greybeards centered jugs of water and decanters of beautiful red wine at strategic points on the worn surface. Arngeir motioned Aine toward the other side of the table, near what could pass for the head of it, and she looked at him in surprise. Her lips parted to quiz him and then someone said her name, causing her heart to skip a little as her face flushed with color.

Ralof stood in the doorway of the room, Ulfric just in front of him. There were a couple of Stormcloaks accompanying them, but Aine had eyes only for Ralof, shrugging off the intensity of Ulfric's look. He was the type that was impossible to ignore anyway and this wasn't new to her. She remained where she was, acutely aware of Seamus' amusement, and Ralof managed one step forward when another voice sounded.

"Well, Ulfric Stormcloak, I have to say I am surprised to see you agreed to this."

Ulfric tensed even more and he partially turned, stopping Ralof's progress and making the entire room chill at least fifteen or twenty degrees. The voice belonged to a tall Imperial who brushed by Ralof as though he wasn't there and met Ulfric glare for glare. His armor gleamed brightly even in this pale light and Seamus' muttered comment about compensating almost caused Aine to laugh out loud. Tullius was tall and lean, his skin sun-gold and his white hair stark against his face. His gaze was quick and very intelligent and he was clearly no one's fool.

"One might say the same about you, dog."

"Gentlemen, please," Arngeir interrupted the argument before it got out of hand and one of his fellow Greybeards placed himself in the midst of these two factions, "We are here to discuss a temporary truce. It will not do to start off the talks with an argument. Ysmir, if you will take your place, we will begin."

Aine gave the old man a nod and headed for the spot he indicated.

"Seamus," She said over her shoulder and was conscious of Ralof's sudden look, "Here-"

"I am sorry, Ysmir, my lord Ulfric, and General Tullius, but negotiators only, if you please," Arngeir's words stopped Aine beside her chair and the two men remained standing as well. Only one of Tullius' group seated herself and Aine blinked at Elenwen as Arngeir turned a pointed look on the Elf, "We will wait for Ysmir to seat herself before we begin."

The Elven woman was nonplussed. She merely shrugged her slender shoulders and stood once more. Her gaze was direct and unchanging when she looked at Aine and she tipped her head in a way that threatened to ignite Aine's temper. She was all arrogant self-possession, looking like she owned this place and they were here for _her_ , not anything else, and Aine fought to keep a firm hold on her sarcasm took this opportunity to make itself heard; she never had been able to keep both in check at the same time.

"Not at all. If Lady Elenwen has something important to share, let her do so now," Aine waved one hand at the Elf, "Perhaps she wants to discuss the importance of valuing her employees? Or maybe she thinks a new trend in dinner parties should be that they end in fires blamed on innocent men? I personally think it'll be enlightening."

"And perhaps the Lady Faren could then instruct us on the finer points of sneaking into dinner parties, disguising oneself, and upending a pleasant evening? Turnabout is fair play, yes?"

"Ysmir."

Aine looked at Arngeir and lifted her shoulders in a shrug, letting this go very reluctantly. She really wanted nothing more than to knock the Elven woman down a peg or two, but she saw - maybe a little late - that now was not the time. Sending a look around at everyone, she arched her brows and took her seat. Tullius was joined by Elenwen, Ulfric had a fierce-looking man draped with heavy furs who dropped a large axe beside his chair so soundly it seemed the room shook. Ralof and two other Stormcloaks positioned themselves behind their leader's chair and Tullius had a small handful of soldiers behind him as well. Esbern and Delphine sat on Tullius' side of the table, but made the separation clear by leaving two vacant chairs between the two groups. Arngeir moved to stand at one side of Aine's chair while Seamus flanked the other and the other Greybeards closed the circle, sitting at the door side of the table.

"And so-"

"I move to exclude the Thalmor from these negotiations," Ulfric interrupted Arngeir without preamble and his deep voice echoed in the room, "She serves no purpose here and we have no intention of making any deals with…" He cast a brief look up the table at the Greybeard and then his eyes met Aine's for a moment. There was a flash of kinship there and he pressed on, "With them. I do not see why she remains."

Elenwen sat stiff and she looked on the verge of snapping back when Tullius raised one hand.

"I brought the Lady Elenwen as my advisor. If we ask her to stand down then the road must go both ways. Your advisors will have to depart as well," His bright eyes followed the path Ulfric's had and landed on Aine. She didn't like his attention and she straightened her shoulders with a frown. The Imperial went on before she could say anything, "And I believe this will also mean the others: the Greybeards' Ysmir and her man. Are you ready for this fight, _king?_ "

Ulfric's eyes flashed brilliantly and he sat forward as his man's fingers tightened on the handle of that heavy axe. Aine didn't need the hand that Arngeir extended.

"Enough, both of you. This will get you - or rather any of us - nowhere. We didn't come to argue about these stupid little petty issues that will keep everyone here while Alduin destroys this world and all we care about. Given that, can we move on?"

"You're allowing her to stay, Dragonborn? After what she did to you?"

Aine looked down the table at Ulfric, his intensity really so much more than what was necessary.

"I need these talks to go well, my lord, and I'm not at all ashamed to admit that to each of you," Aine spread her hands, "Without this advantage we've been given here, all is lost. But if it's that much of a problem… General, would you be willing to continue if Lady Elenwen is removed?"

Tullius glanced at Ulfric and then met Aine's gaze again. A crease appeared between his brows and he steepled his fingers as he studied her. She didn't drop her eyes from his.

"Is this a game? Why are you asking that? You and Elenwen are at odds, are you really giving _us_ the upper hand here?"

"Are you blind and deaf? Consider very carefully what I'm doing, general. I just let you know that _you_ can decide whether or not you have your advisor in this meeting. Would you rather the power rests in my hands, or Lord Ulfric's? You brought Lady Elenwen here, knowing the reaction it would garner, and now you're openly questioning whether or not you actually need her. I think that speaks more of a problem to you, personally, than to any of us. So my question remains the same: are you willing to continue if she is removed from the proceedings? We can do this quite easily, you know. You send her out, Lord Ulfric sends his out and Arngeir keeps me here because I am the one that had this idea in the first place," Aine had a very tough time ignoring Ralof's stifled chuckle when it joined Seamus', but she really believed she covered well. Her shoulders lifted in a falsely felt, dismissive manner, "Like I've already made clear, it's your choice."

"And why should it be mine? Are you giving concessions because you know what you will decide already?"

"Are you afraid of beginning the talks and losing, general?" Aine felt her nerves trying to take over; she wasn't used to so much limelight in such a little amount of time and she fought to retain the control, "Remember I'm here as an advisor and, yes, to be honest I need the favor. But let's face facts, general, if you both say no or can't come to some sort of even temporary truce, I'll just do this anyway. And to hell with the consequences."

This time Seamus' snicker was audible and it was impossible not to feel the warmth of Ralof's grin. Tullius looked almost shocked while Ulfric allowed a small tip of his lips.

"And now are we ready? Very well, let us start."


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** And here she is! Late - again! Apologies all around and this chapter is longer than the rest in a lame attempt to appease my wonderful - patient - readers. I hope you all are doing well and I will definitely, _definitely_ try to be a bit more prompt on the next posting. And rather unrelated to my apologies, I love this chapter; I'm very happy with the way it turned out.

* * *

It was a very good thing Arngeir stepped in then because Aine was quickly losing her temper and she was about to blow up at the general. Instead, she sat back and felt the brush of Seamus' fingers as he gripped the chair.

"So the advisors stay and we will decide what to begin with," The Greybeard spoke evenly and he glanced between both factions, "Since Ysmir and the general have argued for a time about the Lady Elenwen remaining for the talks, I give the floor to you, my lord."

His eyes were on Ulfric and the Nord leader wasn't perturbed. He leaned back, propping one elbow on the arm of his chair. His intense eyes went around to each of them and then he fixed on Tullius. The general was faster.

"Before you begin… Ulfric, I want it made clear. I am here to deal with the dragon menace only. This changes nothing."

"Understood, let's get on with it," Ulfric sat forward and waved one hand, "I will leave the beginning offer to you… Tullius. What is your request?"

Tullius shot a quick look at Elenwen and then took the bait. Aine was more than happy to watch the show.

"We want Riften, it's imperative that the Imperials have the city returned. That is our price for agreeing to this truce."

Ulfric's lips parted and Aine started forward with a quiet scoff. Even Arngeir looked surprised and Ulfric's right hand man gripped the handle of the axe so tight his knuckles were white and the blade lifted from the ground a couple of inches.

"Do you really think Ulfric will just hand over Riften because some Imperial ordered it?" He growled, "You've lost it, general."

"That is quite an opening demand, Tullius."

Ulfric's voice was as calm as his man's was fierce and he looked at the general with arched brows. The other man watched him closely and his frown was deep.

"You are not really considering this, Ulfric? We can hold Riften against anything these Empire dogs throw at her and you cannot think for a moment that Jarl-"

"Galmor, we will do whatever is necessary for the good of Skyrim. Is that clear?" Ulfric waited until his man nodded and then went on, "You can't expect us to just hand over Riften like this at the negotiating table, Tullius. You and your allies have not been able to take her back yet; why should you believe it would be handed over just because one of you ask?"

"General Tullius cannot expect anything for nothing, I am sure," Arngeir cut in easily.

The men glanced at him and Galmor sat back.

"Not at all. What do you offer in return, Tullius? Empty promises or more Imperial blunder?"

"Galmor," Ulfric muttered and looked at Tullius, "Before we decide this I must have my say. Tullius had a moment to tell us why he was here and I feel it is only fair that I am allowed the same. Skyrim knows from bitter experience that talks with the Empire have been a waste of time - and worse."

"Indeed," Galmor growled and he turned a venomous look on the general, "Markarth has not been forgotten."

"But I accepted the Dragonborn's invitation here in good faith and will negotiate in the same vein," His gaze landed on Aine and she blinked before she could help it, "This was your idea, like you have already mentioned, lady. And with that in the open, what do you think Riften is worth?"

Aine fought the urge to look at Arngeir and instead kept her attention on Ulfric. She thought quickly and came back to the one bone of contention.

"What about Markarth?"

It came out as a partial question, partial statement and she wished she could replay that moment. But Ulfric was distracted and she dropped it, not wanting to ruin anything now.

"Interesting. Solitude would be in our hands if Markarth was ours. Those trade routes…" He dropped his gaze from Aine and looked across at Tullius, "You heard her, general. If you intend to keep your word about the truce, you must consider the offer."

Tullius looked at Aine, his eyes burning. Elenwen followed his gaze and her smug expression bothered Aine even more.

"Dragonborn, you are a disappointment. This invitation was accepted even knowing that you were associated with the rebels," Tullius' voice was firm and unapologetic and the implication caught Aine off-guard. She found her eyes straying to Ralof for the briefest moment and her cheeks colored. Her eyes snapped back to the general when he added, "It seems however, that you have no intention of dealing fairly with our side. Ulfric, you've played your hand. I know you; you're here to blacken the Empire's name in this country and I won't be party to it. Do not think that you can continue to hold Riften. I'll have you under the headman's axe again soon and this time, there won't be a dragon to save you."

"Oh, are we going there now? Because I actually have a few things to say about that."

"Ysmir-"

"No, no, Arngeir, the general brought this up and if he wants to discuss that here, I'm more than happy to oblige," Aine sat forward and propped her elbows on the table, "Can we agree that your men actually clarify who they're supposed to execute? Because they will accept absolutely anyone, no questions asked, and you just can't _imagine_ how much of a pain in the ass that is."

One of the soldiers behind Tullius shifted and Arngeir held up his hands.

"No, Ysmir, not here. We have been attempting to keep the men from dwelling on past slights and it will be a step backward if you take that same road."

"As always the Empire's fine words are worthless."

Ulfric's words rather cemented this breakdown in talks and Galmor was partially out of his seat. Aine glanced up at Arngeir, only half-hoping that he would intercede; these men annoyed her and the fact that Elenwen would have her own problems as a result as well merely sweetened the pot.

"Stop!" Esbern's voice was authoritative, making it deeper than usual and it brought everyone up short, "You must drop these petty disagreements. Our danger is present and you cannot turn a blind eye to it because all you see is the fault in one another. The fate of the world hangs in the balance and here you all sit arguing about - nothing!"

"I would advise your man to watch his tongue, Delphine, unless he wishes to have it removed."

Delphine merely arched her brows at Ulfric. She sat forward, her hands resting against the stone tabletop.

"And I would advise you listen to him before saying something rash enough to destroy all of this here."

"Do none of you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin the World-Eater is back. Even now as you sit here, attempting to outdo one another comparing slights, he is devouring the souls of your comrades in Sovngarde. His strength increases with each man, woman, and child killed in this stupid war. Are you truly unable to put your anger aside for Skyrim's sake?"

The room fell silent and Tullius and Ulfric stared at one another for a moment. Esbern remained standing and Aine wondered when that had happened. His words and the power behind them had been very distracting. She felt Seamus lean against her chair and Arngeir stayed on his feet as well. Tullius shifted his weight and let out a small sigh.

"The dragon menace cannot be ignored and I will concede it is getting out of hand. If this truce assists the Dragonborn in defeating them, we both gain. Remember that, Ulfric."

Ulfric waited a beat and then nodded his head. Esbern sat back down and Arngeir dropped his hands.

"So we can return to the matter on hand."

"Indeed," Tullius voice was brisk and he looked back across at the Nord leader, "You know I can't concede to those terms. If the Empire finds that I have turned over Markarth, this truce will be rescinded and I will be recalled to Cyrodiil. And you will lose as well, Dragonborn."

Galmor muttered under his breath too quietly for Aine to hear, but Ulfric tipped his head at him.

"Let's have it, then."

"We want compensation for the massacre at Karthwasten."

Ulfric and Galmor both scoffed derisively and Elenwen leaned forward.

"It is only to even the odds," Her voice was sickeningly polite, "You claim to be 'sons of Skyrim' and now you must pay for the slaughter of your own."

"Damned Imperial lies!" Galmor growled and for a moment, Ulfric allowed him this, "Our men would never stoop to such acts. Not even following your butchery of-"

His lord's hand hit his arm and stopped the flow of words. Galmor looked at Ulfric, but he was already leaning toward Tullius' side of the table.

"This is our homeland, Tullius, all the blood spilt on this soil is on your head. Do not try to state otherwise."

Arngeir looked on the verge of stepping in again and then the general snapped his attention to Aine. Elenwen wore a smug grin and Aine felt the irritation radiating from the Stormcloaks. She arched her brows.

"Your turn, Dragonborn. What do you say?"

She hated that title with a passion, but it was the wrong time to protest its use. Even through her frustration she recognized how large of a step back that would be with these men. She didn't look at Arngeir for help either.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me. I have had other… concerns on my mind," She stopped for a second and looked between both factions. Asking either one of them would be a bad idea and she turned her gaze on Esbern and Delphine, "Could you tell me what happened at Karthwasten?" Her hand immediately shot up when both Ulfric and Tullius began talking at the same time, "I won't hear it from you two so don't bother. I want to hear it from someone… impartial."

"Impartial?" Tullius repeated and his face was tight, "These are your own, Dragonborn, and you expect impartial?"

Aine's brows rose even further as she stared at Delphine. The Breton looked more abominably stubborn than usual and Aine tipped her head.

"If you don't tell them, I will."

"The Blades have cut ties with the Dragonborn, general. Aine Bird cannot expect any help from our quarter and we will not lie to you. There's too much at stake," Delphine's words made Tullius sit back again and Ulfric shifted his intense gaze to the Blade, "Karthwasten is a small settlement on the Karth River. It's always been populated by those that want nothing to do with this war and for a time, its strategic location made it desirable to both sides. There was an Imperial encampment north of the settlement that was attacked during the night by… soldiers. The fight continued through the early morning and managed to bleed south to the town. It was a slaughter, literally. A total of thirteen townsfolk survived and by the time it was light enough to see and the weather had calmed, the soldiers were gone. Both sides. The Imperial forces maintain it was the Stormcloaks and the Stormcloaks have always denied involvement," Delphine lifted her shoulders and Aine didn't bother with the impatient shifting from Tullius and Ulfric. They wisely didn't try to speak, "No one has ever found out for sure. The bodies left behind did not carry any identifying marks or armor. The Stormcloaks say that it was likely the Forsworn, but like I said, no one knows for sure."

"That is not-"

Aine lifted her hand and stopped Tullius' words. She glanced at Ulfric, but spoke to Delphine.

"Really, no brands on the armor? But there must be a reason that the Stormcloaks take the blame."

"You mean apart from ego and the desire to tear down the opponent?" Delphine returned and then shrugged, "I'm sorry, Aine, nothing."

"Recall more of your history, Delphine," Esbern cut in gently, "Remember the weapons found at the site. They-"

"They were left in order to cast blame on the Stormcloaks," Ulfric interrupted and his dark brown eyes fixed on the old Blade, "Everyone knows this."

"My lord, please shut up. Go on, Esbern, what else can you add?"

"Weapons were discovered in the Imperial encampment, weapons that pointed to the Stormcloaks," Esbern looked over at Ulfric, "Although I will concede it is possible that the Forsworn attacked and left the weapons in an attempt to complicate things even further; I wouldn't put that past them. But everyone does believe that the Stormcloaks saw the chance and took it, and never mind the destruction of the village. In a time of war the goal is to ravage and burn. This is not the first village destroyed and we are fools to believe it to be the last."

Aine nodded slowly and looked down the table at Ulfric. His intensity had deepened - if that was possible - and she fought to keep her gaze direct.

"You yourself said that I'm giving you a way to win Solitude, my lord. The least you could do is contribute to Karthwasten's rebuilding and further improvement."

"Now wait a minute. I said to repay the Empire, not the village. Dragonborn-"

"The Empire has people living there, right?" Aine waited for Tullius' abrupt nod, "Living unmolested and free. Both sides do, because I know Delphine wouldn't lie about that. In fact I don't think she lied about any of it. Look at it this way, general: the Stormcloaks are paying to keep some of the Empire's subjects healthy and happy. I would say that it repays your crown and so that matter is settled."

Tullius let out a hiss of a sigh and sat straighter than ever. Ulfric allowed a curt nod in Aine's direction and she looked over at the general.

"This is hardly a repayment," He said tightly, "We have another request to settle the relinquishing of Markarth. Riften barely covers half that cost."

"I'll humor you."

"Humor me? Listen, Ulfric-"

"General," Arngeir's voice was mild, but the underlying steel warned the general not to push, "Continue."

"Winterhold is currently ruled by Jarl Kraldar," Elenwen's even tone did not settle matters too much, but it was probably a good thing she spoke next. Tullius looked murderous, "The Empire requests that he be removed and an Imperial candidate put in his place."

"Shall I hand over the rest of Skyrim as well then?"

Ulfric's deep voice was incredibly sarcastic and Tullius looked at Aine again.

"I suppose we have no choice but to let the Dragonborn decide. Though I personally am having doubts about the soundness of her judgement."

Aine's lips parted to demand why this was her problem, but Arngeir's warning look stifled her. She pressed her mouth closed and studied her hands as she thought about this one. Markarth was on the far west border of the country, Riften on the east. Winterhold, so far north, seemed like nothing. And then she remembered that Windhelm, a mere thirty or thirty-five miles to the east and a little south, was the Stormcloaks' stronghold. They would have their work cut out for them if the Imperials were so close and Aine wondered why the general wanted an Imperial candidate in place there when the people would not accept it lying down.

"You realize what you're asking, I hope?" She spoke before giving it much more thought. If this was a blunder, so be it, "You might get an Imperial leader there, but do you really think the people will accept you?"

"Ysmir, you are here to settle the disagreements. If you wish to get into a discussion of strategy, you must wait until after these matters are dealt with," Arngeir spoke swiftly and Aine just caught sight of Elenwen's disparaging smile, Tullius' lifted brows, and Ulfric's quick doubtful look. She realized too late her blunder and wished fiercely her cheeks didn't redden with such ease, "What is your decision?"

Aine lifted her chin and ran over the terms one last time.

"Agreed, Winterhold will be turned over to the Imperials."

Galmor muttered a string of curses under his breath and Tullius looked relieved. Ulfric stared openly at Aine and he looked ready to cut in when Arngeir spoke again.

"General Tullius, Lord Ulfric, these are the terms on the table: Riften will be turned over to Imperial control, Jarl Laila Law Giver will step down and Maven Black-Briar will take her place. The Imperial forces will remove themselves from the Reach and Markarth is Ulfric Stormcloak's. Jarl Igmund is exiled and Throngvor Silver-Blood will be appointed new jarl. And the Stormcloaks will pay for the continued rebuilding of Karthwasten. You both agree to this?"

Ulfric sat back, his eyes hard and cold when they landed on Tullius.

"The sons of Skyrim will hold to their agreement and honor their word, as long as the Empire does the same."

"These terms are… not what they could be, anyone has to admit this," Aine arched her brows when Tullius looked over at her and she spread her arms, making Seamus chuckle behind her. The general went on, "Yet this is what we have. Agreed, the Imperial forces will hold to them until this dragon menace is taken care of. After that-"

"Agreed."

Aine felt a little shiver at the venom and anger in Ulfric's voice, but that didn't matter to her. She had her truce and more than enough to worry about now.

"Very good. Now that this is settled, we must discuss our next move," Arngeir was on his feet again and his voice brought Aine back to herself, "We must decide how to lure this dragon to Whiterun."

"By the gods, I forgot about that part of this nonsense," Ulfric was truly surprised and curious when he looked over at Aine, "Tell me you have some idea of what to do there?"

"I believe this is why _we_ are here," Esbern cut in and smiled a little when he had everyone's attention, "While you were busily arranging this meeting, I occupied myself in the library of Sky Haven. A waste of time to you warriors, I am sure, but the dragonslayers of old have helped us beyond the grave. They recorded the names of the dragons they killed and thanks to the Dragonborn, we have a map of dragon burials. I cross-referenced the names with the locations and believe that I have found a burial spot that we can use to our advantage."

It was on the tip of Aine's tongue to ask how the hell Esbern managed to get Farengar's map, but she bit it back. She had made a fool of herself too recently to voice that thought. Instead, she assumed a curious expression and didn't turn her attention from the old Blade.

"Go on, old man, we're waiting."

Esbern cast a quick look at Tullius and pressed on without acknowledging that.

"Do you not see? The names of the dragons of old comprise of three words - Shouts, Aine. No matter where you might use the Shout, the dragon will hear you and respond. He won't be able to resist. You defeated his lord Alduin in direct battle; no, you didn't kill him, but you made him retreat and this dragon will be entirely too curious to ignore you."

Aine leveled her gaze on him, forgetting their surroundings and feeling like she was back in Sky Haven and arguing about everything concerning the Dragonborn again. Seamus leaned his elbows on her chair as she sat forward and she was still so acutely aware of his movements… They had spent _way_ too much time together.

"And this dragon's name?"

"I am no master in the skills of the Voice such as the Greybeards here, of course, but you will forgive me this, I am sure," Esbern pulled out a wrinkled, incredibly aged scroll as he spoke and opened it a few inches, "The dragon's name is Od-ah-viing. The 'winged snow hunter' is how I translate this. And there you have it. I believe the rest is up to you, Aine."

"Lovely," She blurted the word before her rational, practical side could quash it and she blinked, shaking her head a little, "Thank you, Esbern, I appreciate your help. Now we just have to talk to Balgruuf… again."

Ulfric and Tullius were both on their feet and Aine took that as a sign that things were as sorted as they could be. She stood as well and suddenly found Ralof beside her. Her color deepened and he touched her shoulder.

"I've been given permission to go to Whiterun to help, if you'll have me?"

Aine smiled, feeling her cheeks were almost too small for this moment. She nodded, probably too eagerly, and tried to ignore the way Seamus watched all of this.

"I'd love it. And it's - it's so good to see you again."

He returned her smile and looked over her shoulder. She glanced up at Seamus and remembered her manners.

"I'm sorry," She hated feeling this flustered and she tried to work beyond it, "Seamus, this is Ralof Skaar; Ralof, Seamus Hady."

The men shook hands and Seamus' amusement made her want to hit him. Ralof diverted his attention to her and his face gentled.

"Can we talk a minute, girl?"

Aine would have given anything for a moment alone with the Nord, but Esbern chose that time to call her name and Ulfric materialized behind Ralof.

"You did well, Aine," The Nord leader's deep voice was impressed and his eyes had calmed a bit. She looked at him in surprise, holding one hand up to Esbern when the old Blade came closer, "I have to say I'm disappointed in the relinquishing of Winterhold, but I understand the reasoning."

"I know, my lord, and those concessions can't have been easy. And let me thank you," Aine felt awkward. Gratitude - or rather expressing it - was still rather foreign to her. In her line of work it was use or be used and the act of thanking another for that role never really entered into anyone's planning. But this was so much larger than any of her exploits and Ulfric and Tullius both deserved at least a word or two for their willingness to make this work for her, "I can't imagine that even being in the same room as the general was an easy thing and it's - everything, making this happen to end Alduin."

"This fight will not be that simple," Ulfric stepped past Ralof and took Aine's elbow in one firm hand. He drew her away from the other two, toward a secluded corner of the room and she didn't have any choice but to go along with him. The movement brought Esbern up short as well and he merely watched them, "Truly, Aine, this will not be easy. I'm sure Ralof has already told you he will be there at Whiterun and he will have additional men with him."

"Did we really need to be over here for this conversation? I'm sure Tullius is well aware that-"

"There's news about your friend."

Aine went still and stared up into the Nord's intense brown eyes. His fingers still held her elbow and he pressed gently while his handsome face grew concerned. She racked her brain, trying to remember when she would have said anything that eluded to her looking for Percival and came up empty. And then it came to her. Ralof, of course! Her face almost flushed, but she was too curious about what Ulfric might have heard and she buried that.

"And?" Ulfric looked down at her for a long moment and the rest of the embarrassment dwindled to nothing. She frowned at him and unconsciously pulled at his grip. He didn't let go, "Ulfric-"

"I'm sorry, Aine."

His words were almost lost under Tullius' farewell to Arngeir and the other Greybeards and Aine glanced in that direction. It was just Tullius and Elenwen left in the room; the general's soldiers had already left. The soldiers…

" _Oh."_

She forgot his hold and made to follow after the general. Ulfric held tight. Aine reached up with her free hand and tried to pry his fingers off.

"Damn it, let go," She snapped, "What the hell, Ulfric? Let me go. That little bastard-"

"Shut up, Aine," Ulfric pushed her back against the wall and gripped her other wrist, holding her easily in spite of her struggles. His voice was a murmur and Aine faintly remembered they weren't alone in the room. And then her anger won out and she pulled even harder, "Please, little thing, stop. Now is not the place or time."

"Then why the hell tell me here? And now? Let _go!"_

His trick of lowering his voice worked on her. She couldn't seem to get much louder than a harsh whisper.

"It won't solve anything. And I told you because of this."

He let go of one arm and held up a roll of parchment. Aine let out an angry hiss, her fingers clawing at his grip, but to no avail.

"That bastard is getting away, Ulfric, do you understand that?"

"I do, and it's for the best."

"How? Are you a damned-"

"Are you going to take this or not?"

Aine cursed under her breath and tried a few more times to free herself, her ineffectiveness making everything worse. She finally gave up and pressed her hand to her face, willing those tears away.

"Aine?"

"Oh, give it to me!" She snapped and ripped the parchment from his hand. Her other arm twisted in his grip and she glanced up at him, "Just let go, Ulfric. The bastard's gone and Seamus is looking at us with that damned… let me go. I'm not going to throw myself down the path at anyone; you have me trapped here in the corner. I'm smart enough to see I won't make it a step."

"You wouldn't make it a half-step," He returned and released her. He himself took a small step backward, but Aine was still caught. She leaned against the cold wall and held the parchment in her hands. He lifted his brows, "Are you going to investigate?"

"I think I'd rather hear you try to explain this bullshit."

"We aren't positive he was here with them and how could we tell? You are the one who knows him and if you didn't recognize him in the Imperial get-up, how do you expect us to…What do you think would have happened if it _was_ clear to you he was here? Would you have sat at the negotiation table as calmly as you did and handled us with the same ease?" He leveled his gaze on her, "No, of course not. It is emotional and clouds judgement. Open that, little thing, and you'll understand."

"Please, I…" Aine dropped that and ignored the practical side that told her he had a valid point. She was sure she'd recognize Percival, but then again with the helms they wore… She shook that thought away and looked down at the parchment in her hands. It wasn't just a note, there was something hard and stiff underneath and her curiousity piqued, "Fine."

She tore the paper free and unrolled the tissue surrounding whatever it was. There was a brief flash of strawberry blond and the strength disappeared from Aine's legs. She collapsed against the wall behind her and slid into a crouch. Her fingers tightened around the items and she let out a harsh gasp.

"Anni?"

Ulfric was already kneeling beside her and Seamus' expression was tender concern. She couldn't look at him for long, it hurt too much. And there was something in the bundle that was cutting into her hand. She opened her palm, Meara's hair still gleaming even in this poor light, and she felt her heart constrict even more. It was one of her friend's darts; those beautiful little silver weapons that Meara had favored above all else, and with it the silver and sapphire ring she had worn for as long as Aine could remember.

"Kerry… Aine, what-"

"How did you know?"

Aine's voice sounded horribly strained even to her and she chose to ignore the fact that Ralof, Delphine, Esbern, and the rest were loosely ringed about them as well. But it didn't matter. Ulfric was the only one that could answer that question for her and she didn't look away from him.

"It was Ralof, Aine, he overheard one of the other soldiers."

"I'm sorry, girl, truly I am," Ralof crouched beside Seamus and gave her a sad smile, "I don't think it was your… I don't think it was Percival's idea. The one I heard it from seems to think he's untouchable. He knew what it would do to you if you found that in your pack. The other one encouraged him and it became a bet. Like most asinine things in this life. They turned it into a game and - Aine, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you and-"

"It's not your fault, Ralof, you asked me… It's not your fault. We're done, I'm done," Aine got to her feet again and felt exhaustion ripple through her. She brushed her hand rather angrily across her face and felt her heart skip when Meara's lock of hair grazed the backs of her fingers, "It's time to catch that dragon and end this."


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Sorry, sorry, sorry! A hundred thousand apologies for being a MONTH late! I can't believe I've let this go for so long and I feel horrible. Life has been rather crazy and not conducive to writing or at the very least posting what I already have written. And so without further ado, I present the next chapter. Thanks so much to those of you patient enough to stick with me and I wish you all a very Happy New Year!

* * *

"So we can have that talk now, girl, right?"

Aine glanced up at Ralof, hardly registering that her pulse never leapt or her cheeks flushed at the sight and sound of him. She was just too exhausted. Her watch started at midnight and for the last hour she had enjoyed the peace and quiet, losing herself in her thoughts. She had only dozed prior to Isalf, the other Stormcloak accompanying Ralof, waking her and she was _not_ in the mood for company. They hadn't stayed at High Hrothgar, opting instead for traveling as far as they could and camp came when they couldn't see well enough to continue. It was also decided that they might as well try to be somewhat bright before attempting to trap a dragon. Aine had felt Seamus' concerned looks all evening and she refused to allow herself to be trapped by him. Ralof wasn't so easily put off.

For the first time, she had no desire to be alone with him. Meara's lock of hair and silver dart were safely tucked into her pack and the sapphire ring glittered in the firelight from her right hand. The pain, however, was first and foremost.

Ralof's smile was warm and his blue eyes tender when he sat beside her, ignoring or completely missing her coldness. His knee bumped hers when he settled and stretched his legs towards the fire's warmth.

"Aine?"

"And what exactly should I expect, Ralof? I mean, you wanted to talk earlier because of Meara and Ulfric took that upon himself."

Ralof blinked at her and if Aine was herself, she would feel awful for taking this out on him. But those 'gifts' had accomplished what Percival and Stychus had wanted and she was hurt and very angry.

"I'm sorry, Aine, I… Telling you about those trinkets would have been - painful. Not that I can claim this when you - Ulfric offered and I accepted," He reached out and touched the sapphire ring, his fingers warm against hers, "And I don't expect a thing from you, girl, not a thing."

Aine felt inexplicably angry and she swatted his hand away. Ralof didn't look disappointed or even put out and she wished he would lose his temper. It would make this so much easier, but he merely looked at her and she _hated_ the burn of tears in her eyes.

"The hell you didn't," She hissed, wishing he'd stop staring at her like that. The understanding in those blue-gold flecked eyes brought the tears that much closer and she lashed out with her words because she wanted him pissed off. Misery loved company, after all, "What did you really think, Ralof? That I would be all for a tumble after hearing my best friend's killer left presents for me? That the sight of her hair, favorite tool of the trade and piece of jewelry would make me want to jump you?"

His eyes flickered and the hand she had swatted twitched like he wanted to touch her again.

"Was that really an option?"

Aine jumped to her feet, her face flushing with anger, and she lashed out before her practical side could take control. Ralof was faster. He caught her wrist easily in one hand and pulled her down beside him again. She moved to hit him with her free hand, but it was no use. He held her upper arms without effort and her temper grew more heated. She twisted her arms to break his grip and got more upset when she couldn't.

"Damn it, let-"

"Easy, girl, don't fight like this, you'll hurt yourself. And you know I didn't mean that. Please, my girl-"

"My name is Aine," She snapped and kept trying to free herself, "You really think-"

"Aine then, and yes, I do. You're hurting and pissed off, mostly with yourself. It might hurt a little less to be pissed off with me instead," He slid his hands down her arms and she realized quite suddenly that she had stopped struggling with him. His palms cupped her elbows and she stilled her temper, resting her fingertips against his forearms, "I'm no fool, Aine. You are - very dear to me, it's… there's no use attempting to deny that, but there's no… Never mind, just know that I never intended that seriously. I was just trying to - help."

Aine pulled herself free and eyed him suspiciously. Her temper was hot, but there was no longer that blind desire to destroy everything around her, beginning with the Nord. He looked back at her patiently, his blue eyes unreadable and so kind she felt that sting of tears again.

"How convenient for you," She finally managed, her voice hoarse and dusky, "All right, Ralof, you've successfully stemmed the tide, for now. But I still can't believe that was all meaningless."

"Who said it was meaningless? If I thought I could get away with it I'd pack you off into the wilds right now and to hell with everything - and everyone - else," His low voice was husky and he never dropped his eyes from hers, "But as yet, I haven't been so lucky."

The remnants of Aine's temper kept most of the embarrassment at bay, but her cheeks still flushed and she had to fight to meet his gaze.

"And now you're still… honestly, I…"

She trailed off, hating this inability at finding the right word, and had to drop her eyes to the ring.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

That simple request was really too much, but she couldn't say no. She sighed and shook her head, satisfying herself with a refusal to look back up at him.

"I don't really know. I've been angry and sore about this for - forever, it seems - and now that bastard is playing games with me and I - there's nothing I can do to stop that. There's nothing, here and now, to put an end to all this bullshit and - it hurts like hell. This feeling of absolute helplessness is infuriating and _exhausting,_ and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. And then to get that from you, of all people. To hear those words from _Ralof_ , someone I think I… I just can't, Ralof, it-"

His fingers landed against her mouth at that, stopping her flow of words. Aine felt her cheeks heat, wondering how the hell she had meant to end that sentence. She made the mistake - the _wonderful_ mistake - of looking up at him and the last of her anger was gone. His blue eyes were mesmerizing in their tenderness and his half-smile sent her pulse skipping wildly. He slid his hand over to cup her cheek and the ball of his thumb wiped an escaped tear from the corner of her eye. The callouses sent a pleasant shiver through her and his other hand was a warm, insistent, weight on her hip. Somehow his face was inches from hers and she wrapped her fingers around the wrist of the hand that held her and waited for him to make the next move because she was at an utter loss.

"You don't need to tell me, girl," His voice was as husky as hers and they were so close, his breath caressed her lips. Aine closed her eyes and just wanted to surrender. He could take it - her - whatever the hell he wanted here, she was done, "Just let me help with some of the burden tonight at least, huh?"

"And what the hell do you think I'm doing here?"

She heard the chuckle in his throat, felt that hot escape of it against her mouth, and she tipped her chin even more. Ralof bent closer, his lips brushed hers, feather light, and then everything screeched to a halt.

There was a familiar twanging sound and she suddenly found herself on the ground behind the log they sat on, Ralof's weight was heavy on her and she had to breathe a moment before she could even start to make sense of this. It was such a shock, going from something warm and heady to something cold and hard so abruptly, and she lifted her hands against the Nord's shoulders, worried something was wrong with him. Hell, it was an arrow she had heard, after all.

"Ral-"

He quickly covered her mouth with one hand, lifting himself just enough to look down at her while he shook his head. He lowered his lips to her ear and spoke in a voice below a whisper.

"I'm sure that was only a warning shot, but we're not risking your pretty neck for it."

Aine shivered when his breath ghosted over her neck and her practical side was loud and fierce when it ordered her to focus. She met his gaze and strained to hear anything resembling a scout. Save the pop and hiss of their fire, there was nothing.

"So we risk yours instead? I can't say that sits well with me."

Ralof grinned down at her and it seemed remarkable that they could so quickly, so completely, forget the precariousness of this situation. Then again, the log they just vacated provided some shelter from detection on that side and on the other was a sheer rock wall with enough bushes and trees tangled across the top that it would be impossible for someone to shoot down on them.

"Well, girl, let's be honest: I can't do a damn thing about those dragons and we've got to keep you safe," He paused and looked down at her for a moment. Aine felt her heart leap at that look and the danger faded even more into the background. He promised things he shouldn't and lowered his head a little. She tipped her chin a second time and felt his smile, "One of these days, Aine Bird. Now be a good girl and stay here."

She missed his weight and warmth the instant he rolled clear of her. She felt vulnerable and, protection or no, the log still blocked the fire's heat and she felt the cold creep in. Ralof's boots made a quiet sound and she could just barely make out the hum of whispered conversation. Her mind wandered to how the hell they were going to investigate without being seen in the firelight and her fingers began rifling through her belt for one of her veiling fog tricks. She kept coming up empty and suddenly remembered that she had moved them into one of the pouches behind her left hip to accommodate… It didn't matter now. Her position didn't encourage a quick grab and she risked detection enough to roll onto her side and lift herself a little to get at them.

Not a sound was made, but she felt the sudden presence behind her. Her hand immediately dropped instead to one of her knives, but whoever it was was faster. A rough hand seized her wrist and the other clamped down over her mouth, shoving her back to the ground. She made to lash out with her free hand and couldn't suppress a muffled moan when a boot landed on her wrist, pinning her down.

"Well, now, this is a surprise," The voice stopped Aine in the process of kicking the man who held her and she went ice cold to white hot in a matter of a blurry second. She probably did some damage trying to wrench her pinned arm free, but it would never register, "It just proves one never can tell what to expect."

Every nerve in Aine's body had stretched painfully tight at the sound of Stychus' voice and the words just doubled-down on that. She could hear faint scuffles and something like a struggle in the camp, but it didn't matter. Her blood rushed in her ears and she tried to twist her head from the restraining hand on her mouth. Stychus' boot still crushed her wrist and she was starting to loose feeling in her fingers. The man holding her was oblivious to her kick and she had just opened her mouth as much as she could to bite into the meat of his hand when Stychus spoke again.

"All right, with that neutralized we can discuss business," He lifted his boot from Aine's wrist, "Get off of her, Percival."

Everything came to a painful standstill and Aine's temper was that steady, unrelenting burn that was infinitely more dangerous than the quick explosions. A hazy white mist settled over her eyes and she had to remember to breathe. She wanted both of these men, but Percival Coyne was the easier target. Attacking Stychus would just get her killed and she couldn't simply sit back and do nothing.

Percival waited a minute and then tried to roll away from her before she could react. It didn't work.

Aine's anger gave her a speed she never normally had and her kick caught him in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards. His legs hit the log and he fell onto his back, Aine after him before anyone else could move. She landed on his chest with her fists already pummeling. Every foul name she thought of escaped her and she hit everything she could reach.

"How could you? Lousy bastard! How _could_ you?!"

Percival hadn't made any move to protect himself or attack her and Aine was lost in her fury. Hitting him like she was quickly lost its charm and she wanted blood. She jerked one of her daggers free and ignored the sudden chorus of her name. It sounded like a fly and she brushed it aside as easily, turning the blade in her hand and angling it to bleed this man like the swine he was.

The tip of the knife arced down and a hand fisted in Aine's hair, yanking her head back and making her drop the knife with a cry. Her hands flew up to free herself and she felt the terrifying red haze creeping in again.

"Damn you, let me go! Get the hell off, you bastard, let me go - ahh!"

The hand tightened, if possible, and it felt like he was trying to tear her scalp completely off. It was Stychus and he pressed a blade to her throat. Aine felt the bite of its keen edge and went still. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she watched Percival gather himself into a crouch, her anger burning fiercely.

She was only vaguely aware of Ralof's pitying expression and Seamus' white-faced shock. They were well-guarded, along with the other Stormcloak, and Aine knew - his 'inferno' or not - Seamus had never seen her like this before. And if she was being honest, neither had she. Not that it mattered now.

"Well, now that that's out of our system," The Imperial's voice was brisk and happy sounding. Aine's fingers clawed at his grip and he brought her up with another jerk, the blade drawing a fine thread of blood. She hissed and about lost it when he clucked his tongue, "More or less, I see. But we should get back to business. I am not accustomed to those I arrest living to tell the tale. Though Percival here has been a fascinating study in self-preservation and selfishness. And you?" Stychus pulled her head back a bit more to look down at her. Aine could have happily run herself through for just a chance to start tearing out those cold grey eyes, "You, little Bird, have turned out just as intriguing. A true legend. Tell me, what do you think you might be worth?"

Aine uttered a name she had heard in the tavern one night that brought about a fatal knife fight and spat on the ground because she couldn't spit on him.

"You're a slimy waste of space and a base bully. You hide behind the power of the Empire and use that as an excuse for your sadism. When the Nords drive you and yours out - and trust me, they will - I'll be applauding and cheering every step, even in the afterlife. Because your days are numbered, _captain_ , just like every other self-important thug I've ever met. So you better start cherishing what you have left."

Something in this speech hit a nerve in Stychus and he slanted the knife, clutched her hair, and bent toward her. His eyes flickered with a heat almost matching her own and his words came in a sharp hiss.

"You really think you can threaten me and not have consequences, _Bird?_ You think I can't hurt you, make you wish - to that afterlife and back - that you'd never been born? Do you think I can't make you suffer?"

"What else is there? You have nothing, not a damn thing, and you know it," She had some freedom of movement and realized he had loosed his hold a bit, "You succeeded in shattering my world already, what more can you do?"

Stychus moved in a blur, his hand fisting in her hair at the nape of her neck and angling the knife toward her exposed throat. Aine was so done with this, more ready to kill or be killed than she ever was before, and that exhaustion welcomed the darkness death would bring with wide-open arms.

Seamus and Ralof, however, had other ideas. They both shouted, struggling with their guards. Aine's eyes blinked open at their uproar and she felt the sharp pang of frustrated disappointment and anger. And Stychus was too damn quick for his own good. He looked down at Aine and his eyes lit as the fury banked. He dropped his knife hand and released her hair so abruptly she swayed. She entertained a brief idea of diving for her dropped dagger, but the captain already crossed to Ralof and Seamus and her anger dissolved into a sudden flush of fear.

"And I believe here is my answer," Stychus sounded chipper again and he stood between the two, his eyes on Aine, "What do you think, Bird? Nord or Breton? Which would you like to see gone? No," He held up one hand, the knife catching the firelight, "Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. You have to understand what I am truly doing here. You need to understand that sadism is second nature to me; I welcome it. So you see why I am allowing _you_ to decide which of your lovers to live, yes?" He cocked his head at her and her temper heated again, "So choose."

Aine's temper was the slow burn and she considered carefully here. The guards with Ralof, Seamus, and Isalf had taken maybe a half-step back, but were still very present. Her brain fired rapidly and she suddenly remembered her other 'weapons'. She almost glanced at Percival, but that would blow her concentration. Instead, she arched her brows at the captain. She had decided on him, he was the villain here and Percival could wait. If she didn't make it through this, well… so be it.

"No, I don't think I will. I don't think I'll have to."

Stychus never looked away from her.

"That's not how this works."

"You're right."


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Slightly late, but not nearly like it was before, right? Anyway, have a wonderful week (or weeks, depending on yours truly) and I hope to be posting again soon! All the best!

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Aine jumped to her feet and Shouted. Immediately everything blurred as she shot forward. Stychus wasn't expecting this and they collided, tumbling away from everyone. There was a small drop-off the path had followed and Aine didn't bother to avoid it now. They fell down the slope and she lost hold of him. The captain cursed as he bounced through the underbrush and trees and Aine kept his location fresh. She hit a boulder rather hard and coughed weakly when her breath was knocked from her lungs. Her hands found a purchase and she heard Stychus fall the rest of the way. She didn't wait for her body to recover, sliding down the incline and staggering to where she thought he had ended up.

There was a faint sound of fighting from above, but it was meaningless. Even her fear and worry for Ralof and Seamus was put second and she came to a stop to listen for the captain. The sound of the usual woodland creatures was absent following their commotion and she held her breath, hearing her heartbeat in her ears and ignoring the way her body ached.

Stychus wasn't making a sound and she tensed. Her hand had already pulled the dagger she stowed in her boot and she wondered when it was she had grabbed it. Easing through the brush, she held out hope she'd find the bastard already dead.

 _Really?_ A voice quizzed. _You really think you would be content with a_ fall _killing this son of a bitch? Come on, Bird, you know better than that! Think of how it'll feel, taking his life like he took Meara's._ Don't _waste this. You're just as bad as him if you do, this is what-_

The blow was not entirely unexpected, but she had been so deep in her thoughts that it caught her unawares. The tree limb crashed into her stomach and she let out a soft groan of pain, feeling the old wounds flare to life. Her breath disappeared again and she grabbed hold of it before Stychus could swing again.

He yanked on it and she stumbled forward before she could set her heels. There was a gleam of steel and she let go of the limb, dropping to the ground as he swung his knife at her. She rolled toward him and struck with her own dagger. The soft curse was rewarding and then he rounded on her. Aine sprang to her feet and dodged the lightning fast attack. The captain had the experience she lacked and she was entirely on the defensive, backing away from him and unable to get her own blows in. The darkness didn't help either and she reminded herself to utilize her Shouts. Her concentration was so divided that the power was not nearly what it could be, but the flames were effective.

Stychus sidestepped and she had her chance. She darted for the tree limb and swung before he could get his bearings again. The limb collided with his skull and he fell back with more curses, one hand going to his head as blood coursed down his face. He coiled to spring himself at her and she swung again. The blow dropped him to his knees and the one to his chest laid him flat, the dagger flying from his hand.

Aine's breath was sharp and ragged and her side was killing her, but she dropped to her knees beside him and had her knife in hand once more. She leaned over the captain who was dazed and, for the moment, bested. His grey eyes met hers and she felt her temper flare to life at the dead light within. He had killed her best friend, destroyed her world, and brought about the utter hell she had suffered these past weeks. Her hands moved of their own accord and she fisted one into his dark hair, pulling his head back and pressing the blade to his throat.

"I don't… think I need to tell you… I've made my choice."

Stychus didn't look frightened or even resigned. Impossibly, he smiled, the blood on the side of his face making it look black.

"You expect surprise. Prepare to be disappointed, little Bird. Like your friend would have been."

Aine's temper flared and she bent closer, ignoring the pain.

"Choose your next words carefully, _captain_."

"What's the use? Your Elf friend understood men like me; she knew that it was a hopeless situation. Did you not see the pleading in her eyes? She knew it would be between you and her and she absolutely _begged_ that it be her. She had a strength, but not yours. You don't truly believe that she could have withstood your trials? This qualifies and you're disappointing her if you give into this bloodlust and - dispatch me. Are you willing to risk that?"

Aine couldn't see through the red haze and she let go of his hair to take her dagger in both hands. She brought it over her head and then her world turned upside down.

Stychus kicked her off of him and she fell to the ground, his weight heavy on top of her. They struggled with the knife and he was stronger than she was. The blade slowly yet inexorably bent toward her and she kicked her legs, to no avail. Stychus was winning and even her temper couldn't help her. Her arms weakened at an alarming rate and she was on the verge of just giving in when the captain suddenly disappeared and she was taken up in someone's arms.

Ralof held her close, her head tucked under his jaw as he murmured to her in his own tongue. His arms were strong and gentle and she violently shoved that desire to break to the back of her head. Seamus' tender hand went down her arm and she had enough presence of mind to wonder who the hell it was that had tackled Stychus. She thought briefly that it was Isalf and then she heard his voice.

"You don't get to talk anymore, so shut it."

She pushed from Ralof, starting to get angry again when he tightened his hold and kept her from breaking free.

"Ralof-"

"Easy, inferno, he's helping."

"The hell he is! Damn it, let go!"

Seamus hadn't stopped stroking her arm and she knocked his hand away before Ralof took her elbows in his palms. She pushed her own hands against his chest, trying to get away and felt the tears fall when she couldn't.

"Aine, please-"

"Let me go!"

"Hady-"

"No, she needs to understand. Aine, it's not what you think; it's not what any of us had thought. You should listen to what we're saying."

"Why?" She demanded, leaning away from Ralof and oblivious to the pain as she tried to tear herself from his grip, "So you can tell me _his_ lies? Seamus, don't be a damned fool. You know what he did, what he's capable of, and now I have both of them and you want to keep me from settling the score. Damn it, Ralof, let me go!"

"Sorry, girl, I'm with your man Seamus on this," Ralof was gentle where Seamus was decisive and abrupt, "You need to listen."

"He's been a prisoner all this time, Aine, he didn't have a choice. He's been waiting for a chance to strike and we may have just blown that for him. All this time, he's looked for an opportunity and now we just sent that sky high…" Seamus glanced over his shoulder and Aine had gone still in Ralof's arms, "Actually, we gave him his window. Ralof, maybe we should-"

Aine slid from Ralof's hands in that moment and she was halfway to Percival and Stychus before either of the others could react. Seamus caught her just as she reached them and grabbed her arms, pulling her back. She stiffened and struggled, but she had eyes only for Percival. He was pinning Stychus to the ground and the captain wasn't trying to get away.

"Like I said, fascinating study," Stychus muttered.

"I said shut up," Percival shoved the captain's shoulders roughly into the ground, "I've been waiting for weeks to do this and I don't need to listen to your swollen ideas anymore. Trust me, this world isn't going to miss you, you sadistic son of a bitch."

"Civ, stop," Seamus kept his grip on Aine despite her struggles and she went still for a moment at those words. She tore her eyes from the two on the ground and looked at her friend in absolute wonder, "You kill him and it's over. Is it-"

"That's the idea, Seamus. Don't pull your clueless bullshit, not now."

" _Listen to me._ You kill him and you're a dead man… again. He's still a captain with the Legion, part of the Empire's army, and - freelance murder aside for the second - his death at your hand is your own death-knell. I can't stand here and let you do that, Civ. We've lost Kerry and - and nearly Anni; I don't want to lose you, too."

Percival looked at Seamus and Aine couldn't bring herself to move.

"Have you lost your mind?" She hissed and felt his hold tighten on her, "Seamus, I told you what happened. I told you how eager he was to give me up and save himself and Meara. It's his fault she was killed and now you want to give him a chance to start over? What the hell? We would never have been in that part of Skyrim if he had just kept his hands to himself, if he had decided not to involve my best friend in that asinine job. Are you really brushing all that aside?"

"Astonishing how self-preservation works, isn't it?"

Ralof darted to Percival and Stychus as soon as the words left the captain's lips and pushed Percival away. He had his blade in one hand and he pressed the point against the captain's chest. Percival jumped to his feet, but didn't make another move to attack, probably thinking that the Nord was taking that on himself. Aine pulled harshly against Seamus again and realized just how weak her injuries had made her. She felt winded and exhausted and that dull ache in her wounded side was sharpening.

"I would stop talking, captain," Ralof's voice was almost pleasant, like he was discussing the weather and not holding a razor sharp sword against a man's chest, "Your men are dead and it'll be four against one if Hady and I lose our tempers and join Aine and Coyne. It's up to you."

Stychus' eyes glittered in the fading fires Aine had conjured and he lay back, putting his hands up in surrender. Ralof crouched swiftly and bound his wrists together, patting down the armor for any hidden blades. There were only two left and he tossed them behind Seamus and Aine before yarding the captain to his feet. Percival's hands were balled into fists and Aine let out an angry hiss of breath, still trying to twist away from Seamus.

"You'll come back to Whiterun with us and we'll inform Tullius of the happenings. If-"

" _What!?"_

"If he decides he wants you freed, I'll make sure Balgruuf passes on some news of a capital crime you were involved in and that he - most fortunately - had to have you executed," Ralof spoke right over Aine and Percival's exclamations and he grabbed Stychus' elbow, pulling him forward, "And if either of you decides to take judgement in your own hands again, you'll be hogtied and carried the rest of the way to town."

The Nord started up the hill and they were both soon out of sight. Seamus finally loosened his grip on Aine and dropped one of her arms completely as he glanced between her and Percival. The fires still smouldered here and there, but there was no threat of them causing anything serious and Aine felt her temper flare at the mischievous light in Seamus' gaze.

"Well, look here: you two actually agree on something. Maybe there's hope for this friendship yet."

Aine stared at him for a beat before snorting derisively and knocking his hands away. She didn't grace Percival with a glance and instead followed Ralof's path up the hill. It was rough going and the fact that she had reopened that wound in her side didn't help. She pressed one hand to it when she didn't need to grab the shrubs and roots to climb and felt the warmth of fresh blood. No wonder she felt so weak. She finally hauled herself up onto the trail and slowly walked around the bend to their camp.

Ralof was building up the fire and Stychus had been dropped rather unceremoniously next to the Nord's tent, Isalf close by, nursing a fairly good gash to his temple. Aine only looked at Stychus long enough to see the strong ties around his ankles and she completely ignored the way he watched her. She believed Ralof's threat - indeed, the small voice belonging to that girl who wanted to surrender completely to him whispered how he would enjoy that; not to mention herself…

She shook the thought away and didn't meet the captain's gaze; she'd lose it again and gut him, threats or no. Instead she sat down rather heavily as far from him as she could manage and unfastened her breastplate. It slipped from her fingers to the ground and she let out a curse at the blood that soaked into her shirt. She stared at it for a moment and felt that exhaustion vying for a hold before she finally decided to see just how bad it was. The stitches had pulled rather severely and she muttered another curse when she realized they'd have to be redone.

"Aine-"

"No," She interrupted Ralof and glanced up at him. He was on his feet and had started toward her, "No, it's-"

Seamus and Percival's sudden presence cut her words short and she dropped the shirt too late.

"Shit, little inferno, again?"

Her old nature still loved that nickname and was happy to hear it. She shook her head when he approached and got back to her feet. She wasn't ready to be touched again just yet.

"I'll get it, Seamus, don't worry. I'll be fine."

She turned to retreat to her tent and stumbled over her own feet. Seamus immediately caught her arm and held her up. Her weakness alarmed her, but she still tried to pull away.

"Yeah, you're just swell. Come on, Anni, let's get you patched up. And drop it, I don't want to hear that you'll do it," He walked her to her tent and drew the flap back, looking down at her rather sweetly, "Let me help, okay?"

Aine felt her temper wage a fierce battle with her love for her friend and Seamus didn't wait for a winner to be announced. Instead, he ushered her inside and got her settled on the bedroll. He bustled about, making a mess of things until she took pity on him.

"Outside pocket, ass, the same little leather case it's always been in."

He grinned over his shoulder at her and she couldn't help but tip a wan smile back at him.

"There's my inferno. Now get that disgusting thing off so I can work."

"Turn around."

"Come on, Anni, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"It most certainly is because you've never seen mine," She arched her brows at him, not sure she wanted to know why his cheeks reddened a bit, "Go on, turn around or get out and let me do it."

Seamus waited a beat and then put his back to her. Aine tugged the bloodied shirt over her head and tossed the blanket around her shoulders, covering what she could while leaving her side exposed for him. The cold bit at her, but there was nothing for it.

"Okay, do your worst."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Seamus' voice was dry, but happy sounding. He dropped to his heels beside her and neatly spread the little leather case open at his side, "Go ahead and lay back, Anni, it'll be a bit easier for me."

She did as he asked, rolling onto her side to give him better access. He moved a little closer and she welcomed the heat his body radiated. He fiddled with the small oil lamp until he had it where he wanted it and she closed her eyes, rather enjoying the smell of leather and fresh pines from his climb through the woods. His fingers were warm as he pushed the blanket a little and began cleaning the blood from the wound. The first few swabs with the fresh cloth made her wince and she inhaled sharply at the first stab of the needle.

"Sorry, Aine."

"What for? It's - ow! - part of the trade, right?"

"That's not what I meant."

Aine went still and she had to wait a moment before she could look up at him. He set another stitch and arched his brows. His hands were steady and efficient and his pale brown eyes leveled on her.

"Seamus-"

"I mean it, too. I can't imagine how… There's no use trying to say it or explain how you feel because I just - can't. But what I _can_ do is tell you how I feel. Civ has always been one of my best friends, Aine, he was there for me when I needed someone. He's my Meara and I couldn't - couldn't let him destroy himself like that. Not when I had the opportunity to help. I don't expect you to like it, actually I'd be pretty damned shocked if you had even a _slight_ softening in that direction here, but I owe you this explanation. And a hell of a lot more. He'd have been executed had he offed that sadistic son of a bitch and… I know, I know, don't look at me like that. I don't need to be reminded of what happened to you. I just… when I came face to face with it - I couldn't. Aine, I'm so sorry, can you-"

She reached out and touched his cheek, stopping his words. Tears burned in her eyes and she pressed her lids closed, despising this weakness. Seamus' hand came loosely around her wrist and she let out a shaky breath.

"I'm so ashamed," She whispered and felt him shift a little closer, "I let my temper get the best of me - again - and nearly got us all killed. Seamus, you - you have such a heart. How you can forgive… Don't apologize again; there's nothing to forgive. _I_ am the one that needs to say sorry. I'm just as bad as that bully out there. Trying to take Perce from you like she was taken and…and - I miss her."

The last words were broken and she didn't stop the tears from coursing down her face. Seamus bent and kissed her cheek, pressing his head to hers.

"I know, sweet, and I do, too. I do, too. But you are a thousand times better than that bully and you can't keep tearing yourself apart like this. It'll kill you and I'm not about to let that happen," He kissed her again and pulled his head back, his mouth tipping a bit in a crooked smile, "Hey, maybe Balgruuf will appoint a new executioner when the time comes."

She let out a chuckle that trembled in the cold air and she knocked the tears from her face. Smiling at him, she inclined her head.

"Maybe he will at that. Now finish up, please, it'll be time to head north again before we know it."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** I've decided to give up asking you poor readers for forgiveness... in a way. I always feel HORRIBLE that it takes me SO long to post these days, but I really like the way this story is turning out and I think I might have resigned myself to posting about twice (or once) a month - And I really am sorry for that! I can't help it! - I hope all is well with my beloved (and PATIENT) readers and as usual, all the best!

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"You did it? You did it," Balgruuf didn't offer a greeting other than this, his eyes going curiously over Stychus, "And?"

"Put him somewhere and lose the key, would you? He hasn't done anything to deserve your sympathies."

Aine hadn't touched Stychus, had hardly looked at him since the previous night, and she wasn't about to start now. Irileth glanced at her jarl and arched her brows at Aine. Seamus' lips parted and Balgruuf was mercifully faster.

"Can we get any other details? Sorry, Aine, I need more to go on than a desire to lock him up."

"I am-"

Aine didn't think just reacted when she heard his voice, picking up a tankard and throwing it at the captain's head. He dodged at the last moment and the tankard clattered across the floor. Everyone looked at her in wordless surprise and she spread her hands with a wince as the new stitches tugged.

"Get rid of him and we'll talk, not before."

"I'd listen to her, Gruf, it's been a long couple of days and she won't put up with much right now."

"And that's different from the usual in what way?" Balgruuf muttered, motioning to Irileth. The Dark Elf stepped forward, "Tell me, Aine, when did you take over the jarl position again?"

Aine dropped her hands and ignored Seamus' chuckle. She met Irileth's gaze when she came close.

"Make sure it's well-guarded, this… man is as slippery as an eel."

The Dark Elf nodded her head once and took Stychus' elbow. She started leading him to the far end of Dragonsreach and his voice echoed in the hall.

"Your footing may slip, little Bird, I would be very careful if I were you."

Aine clenched her jaw and almost chucked another tankard at him, but Irileth gave him a sharp jerk and they disappeared through the doorway. She met Balgruuf's gaze and waved one hand. Ralof, Percival, and Isalf were in the background and Seamus stayed at her elbow.

"I'm sorry, jarl, I didn't mean to step on your toes like that. That man is a murderer, Imperial Legion armor or not, and we can't afford to let him get away. I'll go into detail later; for now, yes, we did it. Tullius and Ulfric have agreed to a very tentative cease fire while we take the next steps here. May I see how this place was intended to be used?"

Seamus blinked down at her at this sudden show of manners and she brushed it off. Balgruuf had folded his arms over his chest and he dropped them a moment later. He led the way up the stairs she and Seamus had climbed when they first asked about this plan and over to the enormous double doors that made up pretty much the entirety of the far wall. The two guards stepped to the matching cranks at each corner and with a loud clunk and metallic rattling, the doors swung inward. Balgruuf held up one hand when they were opened just wide enough to admit a body and he passed through first.

The room was enormous, the ceiling far above them and the walls so far apart it could almost accommodate two dragons. There were two walkways that ran the length of the walls, roughly twenty to twenty-five feet up from the stone floor. They terminated at the far wall with two more cranks which clearly operated the huge iron gate that was currently blocking them from the wide balcony that jutted out from Dragonsreach's northern face. Even this looked to be big enough to properly handle a dragon and Aine walked across to it, noting the large scorch marks and old gouges in the floor from past captives. She peered out the open squares that she could easily fit her head through. The sky was darkening and clouds loomed heavy and threatening over the peaks. The room was cold and so - empty, but she found what she needed.

She glanced over her shoulder and discovered that only Balgruuf had followed her. It was rather surprising. Seamus had ridden beside her all day and Ralof hadn't been able to let her out of his sight; guarding Stychus or not. They had been tiptoeing around her and she wondered briefly if they were starting to cotton on to her growing annoyance. She smiled grimly at the jarl.

"It's perfect, I can see why they were so fond of it."

"It's certainly impressive. You see that bar overhead?" Aine followed his finger to the large yoke-shaped contraption suspended near the middle of the far away ceiling. The heavy chain links disappeared into worn recesses in the stone wall and she could see the additional cranks there as well. She nodded and the jarl went on, "We'll need two men to operate them as soon as your dragon friend is in position. The yoke will drop onto the dragon's neck and pin it to the floor. A crude plan perhaps, but I think this will be one of those best not thought too much about."

"I think that's entirely a matter of opinion," Aine muttered and she smiled a little when he chuckled. She cocked her head up at him, "Pin it to the ground? Without breaking the neck, I hope. I don't think my friend Esbern will be quite as forthcoming with another dragon name, to be quite honest."

"Still a friend? I think you might have more to worry about from Delphine - in my opinion," His words made Aine's smile a bit more real and she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate that. She lifted her shoulders in a what-can-you-do shrug and the jarl went on, "It's a valid concern, but in all the stories I've heard of its use, there were never casualties. At least from the yoke. The dragons that died in this room died from wounds sustained in battle. So, I guess we'll just have to be careful… in more ways than one. And now I think I owe you thanks," He cocked his head at her, his gaze questioning, "How long do I have?"

She shrugged again and reached out to grip the iron bars with both hands, studying the view despite the growing gloom.

"We never really discussed a time frame for the truce, sorry. It was just made clear that we needed this to stop so we could make the next move. So until I trap a dragon here, I guess," She glanced up at him at his derisive snort and allowed a smile; she was _so_ tired, "I'm truly sorry, Balgruuf, it just - it never occurred to any of us. But I can tell you that both Tullius and Ulfric were more than willing to put a stop to everything to help with this menace. Let's just focus on that, huh?"

"Right," He put his own hand on the bars and glanced over his shoulder at the others. They had slowly ventured to the big doors and were talking quietly with the guards posted there. Aine followed his gaze and shook her head slightly at the questioning lift in Seamus' brow that she could feel more than see, "And now I have to insist, Aine. Why the hell is Whiterun holding an Imperial officer captive? Am I about to have a troop of soldiers swooping in on me?"

"Captain Markos Stychus is the reason I was nearly executed. He murdered my best friend in cold blood and destroyed my world in - well, in one fell swoop, if you don't mind my taking your phrase. The other Imperial with us is Percival Coyne," Aine felt her lip curl even saying the name and she shook her head a little, "He's… a bit more complicated. He was my friend's lover and has been, in his words, a willing captive of Stychus'. To hear him tell it, he's been waiting for his opportunity to take the little tyrant down and now, he is. We just need a place to house him until - until whatever comes next."

The jarl nodded his head and lifted his own shoulders.

"I suppose that's fair enough. You've done plenty for us and I don't believe for a minute you'd lie to me. But what about the Legion? I can't imagine they'll take our holding one of theirs lying down."

"You're a clever man, jarl, you'll think of something. Or I could provide some suggestions, if you prefer. I did make a promise I fully intend to keep," Ralof's voice was chipper and both of them turned to face him. He smiled gently at Aine and, for the first time since Stychus found them, she felt her cheeks flush a little, "I think even Tullius will have some issues with his methods. Sorry to interrupt, girl, but are you really considering drawing that thing in tonight? We were hoping you'd wait until the morning, to be quite honest."

Aine glanced at Balgruuf and then out at the sky again. She would never again take Lettie or any other mount for granted. Stychus had refused to tell them where he had staked their horses and after a few fruitless searches, they gave up. Percival wasn't wise to it because the captain had a tendency to appoint one man to do so and that man was killed when Seamus, Isalf, and Ralof had to fight their way to Aine that night. Lettie and Tal along with Ralof and Isalf's mounts - stubborn beasts that they were - would not suffer any other rider and so Stychus and Percival were forced to go along on foot. Which of course meant that they were unable to make good time and now meant they were stretching this fight into the evening. Aine could see the intelligence of Ralof's idea and she had to fight to keep her usual nature from saying 'screw it' and getting this over with. Instead, she found herself nodding her head and she looked back up at the jarl.

"Does this work better for you, Balgruuf? It at least gives you a chance to prep your men and finish whatever else might need finishing."

"In fact, I'd prefer it. Thanks, Aine, and we'll make sure to have everything set for you whenever you need."

"Perfect," She held out one hand, "And thank you."

Balgruuf gripped her hand and smiled.

"Are you sure you don't want to bed down here? There's a spare office off the main hall you can use and the fires will stay burning all night in the hall. It's the least I can do, Aine, and you're more than welcome to it."

"You mean you want Hady having free reign of an empty office? Trusting man, jarl."

Aine genuinely smiled at Ralof's words and she liked the way it felt. Balgruuf grinned and it made him look much younger.

"Excellent point… it's Skaar, right? And you'll note I offered the room to Aine and Aine only. What do you say?"

"I'm sure my companions will want to know if that includes a meal, too. And if not, is the tavern a good place to get a bite?"

"You're welcome to the stores and supper will be served very shortly. We owe you this and my court will be more than a bit pleased to see the Dragonborn joining us. And don't make such a face, Aine. The people want to honor you, let them."

Balgruuf had finally let go of her hand and she shrugged again. Her side hurt, she kept thinking of Stychus in the cells here and Percival just outside the doors; her exhaustion was deepening and Ralof's sudden look promised to give her trouble later if she allowed herself to get cornered by him. _One of these days, Aine Bird_ … his words echoed back to her and she wondered if he somehow knew what she was thinking when he sent another such look that…

"If they knew what I really thought then-" She broke off abruptly, that rarely heeded side making itself heard once more. Her cheeks were warm again and she tipped her head, "I really don't deserve it, but I suppose that's not what they want to hear, is it?"

"Not at all. Now come, let's go and make them happy."

Balgruuf had had a decent point. The court was very pleased to have Aine join them and she would have been driven mad by the continued questioning she'd received if Balgruuf had not positioned her near his own seat and played the part of buffer. Seamus dropped unceremoniously in the seat beside hers, earning a few dark looks from the courtiers, and Ralof, Isalf, and Percival finished the barrier. Aine of course could have done without that last one, but she didn't put up a fight, it wasn't worth her time. Seamus kept up his usual spring of ridiculousness and she loved him a bit more when she recognized his desire to keep her distracted. Balgruuf was another fount of knowledge, sharing amusing stories of his various nobles with them and occasional tales of heroism and greatness. It didn't take Aine long to learn that these stories were connected to those men and women that he truly admired. She didn't have to add much to the conversation and she sat back with a goblet of the beautiful red wine as supper waned.

"I think we need to talk."

Aine stiffened at the voice. She glanced over her shoulder and met Percival's direct gaze. She hadn't really looked at him these past two days and now she saw just how much weight he had lost and wondered if she looked that much older to him as well. She set her jaw and took a sip of wine.

"No, I don't think we do," Around her, Balgruuf was busy with the man sitting at his other side and Seamus had leaned toward Ralof and was sharing another story, though she felt his brief look. Percival had bent down to speak to her and she turned her attention away from him, not caring how completely unsubtle it was, "There's nothing I need to say to you and there certainly isn't anything I need to hear from you. So, that's that."

"It isn't!" Percival hissed and his fierceness drew her gaze again. One of his hands gripped the arm of the chair and he tipped a bit closer, "Bird-"

"No, Perce, I don't want to hear it. You have nothing in your arsenal that will convince me and if you're looking for absolution, you've come to the wrong person. We have _nothing_ to talk about. Now-"

"You have to listen!"

His hand moved like lightning to snatch her arm and she looked down at his fingers, feeling her temper heating even more. She met his gaze.

"Let go of me before I break your fingers."

They stared at one another and then a new voice cut in.

"Are you really the Dragonborn?"

Aine glanced in Balgruuf's direction and found a boy roughly eight or nine standing at the other side of her chair. His dirty blond hair and confident dark brown eyes gave away his heritage and she didn't need Balgruuf's sudden look of fierce pride to tell her this was his son.

"So I'm told," She wrenched her arm away from Percival's grasp and smiled at the boy, "What do you think?"

"I think I want proof."

"Frothar, manners," Balgruuf's voice was sharp and very much a father's admonition, "You know we don't speak to our guests that way."

"It's okay, jarl, it's not like I expected anything less," Aine leaned toward the boy and dropped her tone to a conspiratorial one, "I think I'd want proof, too. Would your father be willing to lend us the dragon trap to show you?"

Frothar looked at his father and Balgruuf gave him a nod, his eyes twinkling at Aine. He put one hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Be a host, Frothar, you know your training."

The boy frowned a moment and then caught the attention of one of the passing servants. He ordered a fill-up for Aine's wine and she couldn't stifle her smile as she got to her feet. She thanked the servant and waved her hand to Frothar. Percival still stood to one side and she brushed by him, fully intending to ignore his presence; but something made her pause and she looked at him.

"I think I know what you want to say, Perce, and it's no use. You made your decision all those weeks ago and I can't forgive you, not yet. I don't care what your intention was, you still are the reason my world disappeared under my feet and it's - pointless - to get into that now. I won't give you the forgiveness, permission, whatever bullshit you seek; keep to Seamus for that. I'm done," She saw the flicker in his eyes, but didn't wait to hear what he would say. Instead she met Frothar's gaze, "All right, my lord, let's practice our Shouts, yeah?"

"Would you really teach me?"

Frothar's excited voice was followed by his father's admonishing call of Aine's name. She grimaced and then smiled at the jarl's son.

"Maybe I misspoke, my lord. I'll show you _my_ Shouts, I don't think your father would appreciate me teaching you something like that just yet."

She made sure that Balgruuf could hear her reply and Frothar lifted his shoulders in something like defeat when he led her back up the steps to the 'dragon trap'. He gave her an appreciative look when they were out of earshot.

"You really did mean it, didn't you?"

"Well, I can't very well keep you from learning when I Shout in front of you, can I, sir?"

"Call me Frothar; I hate titles."

"Only if you call me Aine."

"Deal," He held out his hand and Aine couldn't suppress this smile either as she shook on that. She had never been one for children, but this boy was a character and definitely a character she could admire. It would be a travesty if his spirit was broken, "Are you sure this room will work?"

"It's perfect, Frothar, we'll have plenty of space."

The doors were still open after their earlier excursion and Frothar grabbed a torch from one of the sconces in the wall. He was clearly an old hat at this and he darted about, lighting a handful of torches along one wall. Aine decided he might as well have his first show.

"Give me the torch a minute," She waited until he was back at her side and she turned the torch upside down into the barrel beside the wall, letting the flames die, "All right, now remember, you need to stay a few steps behind me no matter what. Your mother and father will never help me again if you get hurt here."

"Just Da."

Aine blinked down at him and felt her heart give an odd lurch. She didn't like making mistakes like that.

"I'm sorry, Frothar, I didn't know."

"It's okay, everyone new makes that mistake. Mother died when Dagny got here. She's a brat and doesn't know how she hurt Mother. She killed her," Frothar lifted his shoulders in an unconcerned way, though his dark eyes were very young and the frown creasing his brow told her he was repeating something he had heard. She didn't for a moment believe it came from Balgruuf; he wasn't such a fool as to allow his son to hold to this perspective and she would be willing to bet he wasn't aware of it. Frothar looked up at her almost accusingly, "Come on, let's see."

She blinked and pulled herself from her thoughts.

"Right, I'm sorry. Just remember what I said, stay behind me, okay? Here we go."

She held the torch in front of her, focused her attention, and Shouted. The gout of flame was smaller than usual and she realized how much control she unwittingly had on this power. It had been in the back of her mind that it didn't need to be full-strength and somehow she was able to accomplish this. The torch head ignited again and she turned to Frothar, holding it out to him. His dark eyes were enormous and he gingerly took the torch in one hand. He glanced between her and it for a moment before he ventured to speak.

"How - how do you do it? It sounds just like talking."

"It is, in a way. That wasn't full-strength; it's a lot bigger then, but it takes a lot out of me sometimes and tonight would have been one of those times. I can try one more if you want to see it?"

"Yeah," He said eagerly and almost dropped the torch, "Here, hang on."

He set the torch in a sconce and carefully returned to a step or two behind her like she asked. Aine glanced at the gate and didn't like the idea of running _toward_ the thing.

"All right, Frothar, I know I told you to stay behind me, but I'm going to ask that you stay right there by that torch sconce, okay? This one is a bit different and I have to start from the balcony area, but I want you to keep yourself right there."

"Got it."

She waited until the boy had retreated to a safe spot and then walked to the big gate. The bars were freezing under her fingers and she put her back to them and Shouted again. She blurred forward, feeling that tug on her power, and once more met Frothar's astounded gaze. The doors were just a hands-breadth away and the little boy was beside himself with glee.

"That's amazing!" He crowed, his voice echoing in the massive room. He danced around her, "It still sounds like words. Can you really teach me, Aine, please? It would be so great! Getting away from Dagny and Nelkir and able to start a fire without anyone scolding me for using the flint. Oh, please, Aine, teach me!"

Aine couldn't help but chuckle at his exuberance. She touched his shoulder to get him to stand still and he squirmed under her fingers. That adoring light in his gaze was so endearing and uplifting after the past couple of days and she had a hard time remembering the way Balgruuf had said her name just moments ago. Surely there couldn't be any harm in teaching the boy the words, right…?

"All right, Frothar, but I need your promise. I need you to promise me that you won't use anything I teach you against your brother and sister, or anyone else smaller and weaker than you. If you do use it, it has to be in a serious situation, and I mean serious. Life and death serious. Do you understand?"

"Oh, you're taking all the fun out of it!"

"I know. Unfortunately that's what adults do. But I have to make sure you stay safe and while that does take the fun out of it, it's the only way this is going to work. Fair enough?"

Frothar looked put out, but he was still clearly excited about this prospect of learning and he wasn't going to pass it up. He shook her hand again and smiled when she did.

"Fair enough."

Aine thought briefly she would get into some serious trouble with the boy's father and then brushed it aside. For the next quarter-hour, the two of them went over the three words to make the Shout for the Sprint and Frothar was convinced that he was a bit faster at the end of their time. Aine wasn't quite as sure, but she didn't dissuade him, still reluctant to even disappoint that wonderful spirit. She knew he would need the careful teaching of the Greybeards if he truly wanted this and she didn't think Balgruuf would be too crazy about the idea of his son following the way of the Voice. For now, she was willing to encourage him.

"All right, let's take a break, huh? Would you show me how to use the cranks for the gate and trap?"

"Sure, come on."

Frothar immediately sprang onto the ladder and led the way to those cranks. She followed after him and made him grin in delight when she used the Shout to light one of the torches there. He showed her how to release the chains and the winches were well-oiled and easily manipulated.

"They have to be used at the same time," He said matter-of-factly and idly stroked the wooden handle for the trap, "Did you want to see it?"

"I do," She decided to test him a bit, wondering for the first time if she was creating a monster, teaching him the Shout, "What do you think, Frothar? Should I see if the Sprint will get me clear to the other side without using the ladder? I'd have to climb up on the railing, but I think it'll work. What about you?"

Frothar's eyes lit for a minute and then he looked unsure. He faced her fully and cocked his head, looking _so_ much like his father. She decided to take pity on him, seeing he passed her test just fine.

"Well-"

"I'm teasing you, Frothar, that would be dangerous and incredibly stupid. But good job, I know now you're not going to be silly about what I taught you. Wait a second and I'll get over to the other ones."

She felt a bit vindicated by the pleased look on his face and she moved across to the other cranks and winches. At his call that he was ready, she turned hers and the gate slowly inched up. She told him to stop when it was about twenty feet from the stone floor and she secured the chain how he showed her before turning to the winch for the trap. The torches were just bright enough to see the movement when they let it drop a few feet. Its easy, smooth motion was a very good thing and Aine could feel its weight even through the winch. She called to the boy to secure the chain and then Balgruuf's voice said Frothar's name from the doorway as she started back to the floor. The boy slid down the ladder like it was second nature; and given the fact that this was home and he had that almost-reckless-abandonment twinkle in his eyes, it probably was.

"Coming, Da!" He called and looked up at Aine, "Thanks, for everything. It was great."

Aine heard Balgruuf speaking with someone in the other room and she stepped forward, holding out her hand.

"And you, too, Frothar. I appreciate it, really," She waited until he gripped her hand and then moved closer. The boy frowned at her and she lowered her head to his level. It wasn't far, but he needed to understand her words here more than any other thing she had told him, "And listen, your sister might not know that her birth took your mother, but you can't - you really _can't_ \- keep holding that against her. You're a very smart boy, Frothar, and you know exactly what I mean. Dagny was just a baby, she didn't do any of that on purpose, trust me. And it hurts, I know, but she needs you and you need her. Take it from someone that would have given _everything_ to have a sister or brother. To have someone protect me when I… Don't forget that, okay? You're her big brother and that's what that means. She might drive you absolutely mad, but she loves you and needs you to be that for her. You know that, right?"

Frothar looked at her for a long moment and then nodded his head.

"I guess I do. She's really annoying though."

Aine smiled and returned the nod.

"Yes, and that will probably continue for a while, but that doesn't change what I told you. It's how families work, Frothar, and if you're Dagny's hero you'll have a friend and partner for life. When brothers and sisters lose their parents, one or both, they need one another more than ever. You know?"

"I know," He stopped a minute and then stepped forward and threw both arms around her neck. Aine froze and it took a bit before she hugged him back. Balgruuf called Frothar again and the boy pulled away, "And thanks again. I won't forget."

"And, Frothar," Aine waited until the boy looked at her, "Our secret for now."


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** As I mentioned already, I'm beyond the point of apologizing for my lateness (which in NO WAY means I'm not sorry! It's a given, trust me) and instead I'm just going to say enjoy, all the best, and I wish you all a very happy spring! And though I hate to get anyone's hopes up, I've been writing more than usual lately and I'm actually hoping to post again soon. Keep your fingers crossed and I will too! All the best in the world, catalinaD

* * *

Frothar gave her a salute and disappeared out the door. She listened as Balgruuf and his boy's voices faded as she went around the room extinguishing torches, feeling an old ache in her heart that whispered of that missed family experience. The last torch, that one she had lit with her Shout, flared at her as she pulled it from its sconce and she studied the flames.

Life wasn't fair, would never be fair, and she felt that more keenly than ever before. It wasn't new to her: she had missed the familial experience entirely and she wondered at the sudden poignancy tonight. Frothar wasn't the first kid she had spoken and almost bonded with, but his look when he talked of his sister 'killing' their mother had struck a cord with her. She didn't remember her parents, but she had gathered over the years that her mother had died giving birth to her and her father had been killed just months before that. She had grown up believing she was responsible for her mother's death and she wasn't about to allow Frothar blame his little sister for theirs. _That_ was what wasn't fair.

Aine wandered to the balcony and dropped the torch into one of the empty, outside sconces. She crossed to the railing, out of the flickering torchlight and into the pale shadow of the moon and stars. Clouds sailed across the sky in a high breeze that only allowed the occasional caress down below and she propped her elbows on the railing and leaned forward. The plain underneath was clear and the shrubs and trees threw strange shades on the moonlit grasses. She felt as introspective as she had at Sky Haven and it was marked. These moments didn't normally happen so close together and she wondered what brought it about.

Prior to Sky Haven, it was the night that Meara and Percival stumbled into her apartments, stating they had to _go_ and there was no time to waste. It had completely thrown Aine and still did when she considered it. Truly, who the hell allows themselves to be talked out of a finally comfortable life, owing no one any debts anymore, because a friend's lover was an idiot that couldn't keep his hands to himself? But convinced she had been and she had jumped at the opportunity to help Meara. Even if it was Percival's doing. Life had never been simple for her kind and never would be, and she still didn't know why she had been so surprised when the two of them had shown up. It wasn't like she didn't know of the job; it was just that she had been under the impression it was _Percival's_ and not Meara's. And then the bastard had to go and include his girl in this and the whole thing blew up. She couldn't forgive him, and the horrid part of it was that she couldn't forgive Meara either for being talked into helping. In moments of complete sobriety, when she really considered everything, she had to lay blame at her friend's feet too, and that killed her a little each time.

Meara was her rock, her idol, in _so_ many ways. The Elf had been strong, confident, so sure that everything would work out and they had nothing to fear. And then the world caved in and so did she… And that's really what bothered Aine the most. Meara gave in. She gave up, allowed Stychus to win, and contributed to the utter collapse of Aine's world. Aine herself had fought against this truth for weeks; since it happened, really. Now, though, there was no hiding. She knew that's what Percival wanted to talk about and she couldn't keep Stychus' words from bouncing around and tormenting her. _Your Elf friend understood men like me… Did you not see the pleading in her eyes? …she absolutely_ begged _that it be her. She had a strength, but not yours. You don't truly believe that she could have withstood your trials?_ And Aine knew she never would have.

Letting out a shaking breath, she tipped forward even more and pressed her forehead to her fingertips. These thoughts seemed so disloyal, so… cruel, and she wasn't sure she could come back from them. Their nature was such that, once they started, they didn't-

"And here we are, again."

The voice made Aine jerk upright, her cheeks flushing before she could control it. She didn't bother glancing over her shoulder, it would make it that much worse. Instead, Ralof's own shoulder brushed against hers, feather-light, as he mimicked her posture on the rail.

"I suppose so."

She felt his glance without breaking from her study of the plains and she just - couldn't look at him.

"Did you teach the boy what he wanted?"

That _did_ deserve a look and she regretted it instantly. His gold-flecked eyes were entirely too tender and the depths promised those same unspoken things from the other night… She dropped her gaze to her fingers so abruptly she felt his confusion.

"I shouldn't have, but yes. He's a good boy and has a flair for it. I doubt his father will let him explore this though."

"A word from the right corner might change his mind."

Aine snorted and rubbed at her face with one hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt the heat of Ralof's body and she tried in vain to ignore the smell of sage, sawdust, and something that hinted at mint… a damned struggle if there ever was one.

"Let's not push it. We need Balgruuf to be cooperative and if he discovers that we're in a conspiracy to teach his son Shouts, he might balk. There's an opportune time for everything, I think."

"My very dear, darling girl, _you_ are the one in the conspiracy, I'm afraid the rest of us are simply bystanders. Though it is rather charming of you to try to include us."

That was something else that couldn't go by without a brief glance and she again regretted - _rejoiced_ \- at the look in his eyes. She felt her heart skip a few times and then hammer so loudly in her chest it would have been a miracle that he missed it. He reached out to touch her cheek and she inhaled sharply as that tender caress migrated down to the pulse working in her neck.

"Ralof-"

"No, girl, shh," He murmured and his other hand found her waist, turning her toward him. She allowed it, her eyes drifting closed, "I told you-"

"One of these days," She whispered and felt his breath against her lips. Something within her, deep, _deep_ within her, something that had blinked eyes open the night Seamus kissed her and again when she had first seen him lying pale and lifeless after Snow Veil Sanctum; something that made this creature that wanted to jump the Nord's bones protest loudly, threw up both hands and she inhaled again and dropped her chin, forcing Ralof's mouth against the bridge of her nose rather than her lips, "Wait, just… wait."

"Wait? Aine, what the hell-"

"No, wait, please," She pushed her hand against his shoulder and stepped back. Her gaze found his and she wondered, really wondered, how the hell she managed to keep him at arms length after _that_ look, "It can't be like this, Ralof, I can't… I don't - not like this. This is our frustration talking and-"

"Damned straight it is. And you, Aine Bird, are not helping matters with this talk. Do you care for me?"

Aine blinked and froze, one hand gripping the neckline of her shirt. They stared at each other for a beat and she finally frowned at him.

"Of course I do and you already know that. Why-"

"You know what I mean. I'm not Hady, girl, and this isn't going to be quite as simple."

"And you think I don't know _that?"_ She returned and felt her heart do a little drum-roll in her chest. No, he definitely wasn't Seamus and for a moment, Aine thoughts flew back to that night in Seamus' tent. The tender way he held her face, how his lips caressed hers, and that look in his eyes when he said he had to at least once… She had thought she settled that debate on her feelings for him at Sky Haven and to hear Ralof say so bluntly that _this_ wasn't going to be as simple, she almost wanted to laugh. Because when she truly searched her heart concerning these two men, she was more confused than ever and she had done her best lately to avoid the topic altogether. Traveling with Seamus, being the sole recipient to his open affection, getting so used to turning and having him at her elbow had had an effect and she didn't… She was taking too long to continue her answer and she watched his dark blue eyes flicker with uncertainty, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. Dropping her hand, she spread them both in a rather hopeless gesture and leveled her gaze at him, not ready to go into any further detail there, she just couldn't, "I'm not a fool, Ralof, which you know well enough. You saved my life in Helgen and made me feel like part of your family in Riverwood, and I will never forget the kindness you showed. But apart from that, what do we know about one another? I know you have an older sister who loves you dearly, her husband is a friend, and their son idolizes you. You're a Stormcloak, loyal to your lord and devoted to your country and countrymen; a fierce, proud warrior willing to give up your life to help someone in an impossible situation. Someone you knew nothing about. And yes, I do care for you, very much, but I don't think it's quite what you are looking for."

"Yet?"

His eyes twinkled a little when he said the word and she smiled at him dropping one hand to her wounded side and letting the other relax, relieved that he didn't go back to Seamus. She shook her head at his concerned frown and let that hand fall away.

"It's just sore, I'm fine. And do you understand what I mean? I never intended to hurt you, Ralof, I just-"

"Oh, it's bullshit," He interrupted cheerfully and Aine arched her brows at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, "I know you care for me, girl, it's just not quite to that exploitable stage, is it? And I know you well enough today to tell you I'm more than happy to hang around and jump the minute it _is_ at that stage. Because you and I are in this until the very end, I think, and I'll forgive you for not adding stubborn to your list of my virtues."

Aine couldn't help the grin that started across her face at his tone and words. There was just enough underlying steel that it made her flush a bit, but the irreverence was _so_ much easier to handle.

"I didn't forget, I figured it was a given: you being a Nord and all. I just thought that I didn't have to add it."

"Fair enough. Can I return the favor? You described me, I think it's my turn now," He added the last when she frowned at him again and she hesitated before waving one hand. His expression smoothed and one corner of his lips tipped. He idly moved closer to her and that tip turned into an almost self-deprecating smile when he noticed her retreat with each of his encroaches, "I know you're an orphan, Seamus Hady is…" His head cocked and she felt a squirm in her gut that told her he may not have pushed, but he definitely caught her indecision, "He's incredibly important in your life and you recently lost another that was very, very dear to you. Solitude is where you were grew up and your childhood was - well, shitty. I can't begin to understand how terrible it was, living on the streets; I'm sorry, girl. But that's the past, right? You made it work and your Meara was your rock, until Coyne. I didn't need to hear your words with him the past few days - or rather lack of them - to know there's no love lost between you. The way you spoke about him outside of Helgen was really telling."

His eyes met hers and she wondered when it was he had moved that close again. She instinctively took a step or two back because she was tired and lonely, and if he took liberties here, she wasn't sure she could - _would_ \- stop him. It wouldn't be smart and certainly not fair to him; she wasn't a blind fool and the looks he gave her while she shared her frail speech of not knowing him shook her to her core. This man was not looking for a fling and she felt herself floundering because she had never been in this position before, and even with her uncertainty about Seamus, she knew damned well a part of her was crazy about this Nord. And that side was attempting to drag the stubborn, unfettered street urchin she had been into a glorious sunshine and a life she never thought she had had a chance at; and to further her confusion, she was rather partial to that street urchin. The additional problems were that Markos Stychus still lived, Percival Coyne was somewhere below her feet and she wasn't ready for thoughts of _him_ either, and Meara's murder still unavenged; and these things created a perfect storm within her. She wasn't going to involve Ralof in her own personal vendetta… anymore than he already was, of course.

"All true, which you know."

"I do," His voice was amused and she shuffled back another step while he went on, "In spite of your upbringing, you tried to leave Skyrim in order to help Meara and start over, meaning you have a good heart, girl, and are a genuine, dependable friend. I know Hady battles his own demons and the way he leans on you for strength and encouragement merely cements that. He's the one that kept you from killing Coyne that night and that strength of character… it's rare today, and extraordinarily beautiful. You left stubbornness off my list because it's a 'given' which is very true, but I'm adding it to yours. I'm not used to being told to wait, Aine, my stubbornness usually wins whatever battles I'm waging, but you…" He sighed as he leaned forward and pressed his palm on the wall beside her shoulder. Aine felt the cold stone on her back and she wondered briefly how the hell she ended up against the building; she really had to pay more attention. And then she caught the fires burning in the depths of those gold-flecked eyes and the way he smiled down at her and she stopped wondering, "I haven't decided how to deal with you just yet. I mean, I know what I'd _prefer_ , but I don't think that would go over well with you - at least not right now."

"You wouldn't be wrong," She answered and found her voice couldn't get much louder than a husky murmur. The fingers of one hand landed lightly on his shoulder, her fingers curling against his collarbone, "And you're a smart man, I wouldn't test those boundaries."

"I think I liked you better before we added to our number."

She laughed softly and tipped her head against the wall. Ralof's own voice was steadier than hers, but he couldn't seem to speak any louder either. His other hand brushed her shoulder when he pressed it to the stone and he lowered his forehead to hers. Seamus and that - distraction - faded a bit and Aine closed her eyes before she could help it, feeling the warm puff of his breath across her cheek. She could smell his distinct scent again and this time she caught the smell of beer and something like bourbon. Her fingers still pressed against his shoulder and she struggled to remember what they were talking about. _You really want to keep this separation up then, huh? Still under the delusion that it's the only way to survive? You might want to question what the_ hell _you're doing now then. Or, more importantly, question_ why _the hell you're doing this._ The voice of that sun-warmed girl was ignored with a huge effort, but she still smiled and didn't pull away from Ralof.

"And you're not the only one. If only life were that simple."

"It could be," He whispered and pulled back when he felt her shift, "And don't look at me like that. I'm not suggesting we run away - at least not right now. I guess I mean that it's ridiculous to argue that we don't know one another, Aine, because - sometimes that's exactly what makes things perfect. I'm not going to jump you, stop pulling away. I already told you that I'm happy to wait, but I think I have a right to call bullshit again."

Aine snorted and leaned against the wall again. She had done as he asked and stopped squirming, and now she felt her exhaustion vying to take hold. It bothered her, and never mind that she suddenly had something other than Ralof's persistence to focus on. She had lost more blood than she realized the other night and it was a terrible thing to try to recover from, especially when there was hardly time to rest. Tender fingers caressed her cheek and she opened her eyes, looking up into Ralof's concerned face.

"You okay, girl?"

"No," She returned in such a blunt fashion he blinked. It was the most brutally honest she had ever been with him and it was no wonder he looked thrown for a moment. Too late, she tried to backpedal, "Sorry, Ralof, I'm done. The past few days and nights have been… entirely too long and my body is letting me know it. Ruthlessly. I need to sleep."

"And to get warmed up again. You're shivering."

"It's not exactly a summer's night," She pushed from the wall and found herself practically against his chest. Their eyes met and Aine inhaled quietly while Ralof let out a soft breath. His gaze searched hers for what felt an eternity and she again saw just how deep that desire went, "Ralof…"

He let out another quiet sigh and stepped back, a small smile gracing his mouth when she couldn't hide the slight swaying as his body disappeared so suddenly. She blinked, hating how obvious that had been. She wasn't putting a good face on that argument for waiting with this nonsense.

"Go on, girl, people might get the wrong idea if we go back down together."

She knew he said it to fluster her and she cursed roundly in her head when her cheeks tinted. His smile was broad, affectionate, and for one fleeting moment, she considered throwing herself into his arms and to hell with everything else. It teetered on the edge and then sanity restored itself. She gave him a nod and headed back into the large room.

"Good night, Ralof."

"Good night, my girl."

Despite knowing that she had done right morally tonight - and right certainly by him - she couldn't help feeling that some small part of her just died as she left the Nord on the balcony and retreated to her cold bedroll alone.

* * *

The next day dawned grey and gloomy. Gone was the pale blue sky from yesterday and the heavy clouds that had gathered against the mountains the night before now stretched across and concealed the sun. Aine felt it fitting for this task and she made her way to the dragon trap with a mug of coffee in one hand and none of her companions. It was fairly early still and Seamus was snoring softly from his spot beside her on the office floor where he had crashed. Percival was a lump a few feet beyond him and Aine had had to work _very_ hard to not kick him in the head just for spite's sake. Ralof had bedded down at the opposite wall and his bedroll was empty when she got up.

A little pang went through her and then she scolded herself. Hadn't she made it very clear she wasn't ready for him last night…? And multiple times at that, too, if she was completely honest; and of course, welcoming Seamus' company and shunning his probably didn't help either. She had caught the gleam of his dark eyes every now and then when she turned over in the course of her very fitful night. He hadn't said a word to her during these moments and following one of them, she rolled to put her back to him and then stared at the embers of the fire for what felt like hours, waging a fierce debate on the intelligence of getting up and allowing him to take her wherever he wanted to take her. Her nerves had never been so rattled and she wasn't such an innocent that she didn't understand what some of her more - loose - companions meant when they talked of 'blowing off steam' the night before a big job. Her practical side and self-pride had barely eked out the win there and she felt even more exhausted by this than by the fact that she had hardly slept. And never mind that the two definitely went hand-in-hand.

The doors leading to the trap were opened maybe a bit wider than they had been last night and despite the early hour two men were in the room, each manning a crank, and applying additional oil to the machinery. They were running the yoke up and letting it fall almost to the ground and Aine watched for a moment, gauging exactly where she would need to lure the dragon. She skirted the spot and headed for the balcony. The gate was raised completely and the air was cold and damp, threatening snow. Pulling her cloak more tightly about her, she stopped at the railing and studied the view again. Her introspection was rather unsettling and she let her gaze rove over the plains. The giants and their mammoth herds were leisurely moving across the grass, even these beasts seeming small in the distance.

A voice whispered she was deflecting, proving her skill at avoidance was as sharp as ever, and she took a gulp of coffee that burned the inside of her mouth. She brushed that aside, wanting the jolt of caffeine more than anything - needing it, really. _You're introspective because you know what you'll have to hide from them._ She couldn't stop that voice from needling in and pushing and shoving until it could make itself comfortable in her already muddled head. _You need to do this alone and you know what will happen if you so much as mention it before-hand. The Breton won't forgive you and the Nord won't let you go. Be honest, little Bird-_

The coffee burned her again as she tried to shut out the voice, _hating_ who it sounded like. _No, Ai, not today; you need to hear this. It's why you_ really _pushed your Nord away last night. You're afraid, and my dear, dear Aine, you are allowed to be afraid. Remember telling me that night I had to flirt that fear was what let you know you were heading in the right direction? Imagine taking those words to heart, Ai, and not anything else you hear or think. Just imagine what that will mean for you here._

Aine had to put the cup on the railing, she was shaking so badly. Meara's voice was clear as a bell in her head, drowning out the one that sounded like Stychus and making her think all she needed was to turn around and see her friend standing there. Her eyes squeezed shut and she gripped the stone railing so tightly she felt it cut into her skin. The cold never registered and she inhaled shakily, willing this ghost, shade, memory - whatever - to go on.

 _You're afraid to lure the dragon, face this Alduin and end whatever it is he's attempting to accomplish and that's good, really; it means you understand the severity. Aine, it means you know what it will happen if you fail here, what that will do to the world and all the innocents in it, and if Aine Bird was ever more successful in a task than when it truly mattered - well, I have to admit you'd be a deity. Follow your own words, grip the fear, and then let it become your strength. You can do this._

Meara's voice faded away on the sweetest sigh of a breeze and Aine gasped, tightening her hold on the railing while she got her bearings back. She stared out again without really seeing anything and waited for her thudding heart to slow a bit. Her mind kept flying over the scenes of the past few days and every time she kept coming back to two faces - no surprise there - and she actually gave the sun-drenched girl an advantage… for now. The coffee was finished in one pull and she heard movement behind her.

"Dragonborn, the trap is ready."

Aine turned and gave the rather stocky man a nod as she moved forward.

"Good," She said briskly and headed for the doors and the rest of Dragonsreach, "Do you know where I can find your lord?"

"If not the main hall, Dragonborn, try Farengar's office. I believe the jarl had some business with him."

She thanked him and made her way downstairs, dropping the mug onto one end of the massive table closest to her. There were a few people up and about in the main hall, none of them the jarl, and none of them eating. The whole air of the place was anxious and watching, and she ignored the looks that came her way. Instead she turned for the court wizard's office and heard Balgruuf's voice assure someone that he had had the royal family moved to a safe location already.

Aine slipped inside and barely registered the occupants after spotting the only one that mattered. She set her jaw and lifted her head, her heart thundering in her ears as she crossed the room in quick, sure strides. The one she approached stood quite suddenly from the stool and watched her in confusion and wonder.

"I'm a damned fool, Ralof Skaar. But then, so are you - a bit. You could so easily have taken advantage last night. Either way…"

And with that, Aine slid her arms up and around Ralof's neck, arched onto her tiptoes, and pressed herself against him as her mouth met his. Everything screeched to a halt, Ralof seemed shocked into immobility and Aine couldn't keep on her toes: her legs shook too badly. She dropped back to her regular height, but didn't let go of him, kissing him again in spite of not garnering a response. Ralof had to bend with her and a small sigh escaped her before her mouth slanted under his. For the briefest of moments, the Nord pulled back and his eyes glittered dangerously down at her from under his lashes. Aine's breath was anything but steady and she just managed a sharp gasp when he moaned her name hoarsely and had her crushed to his chest, his arms like a vice against her back. She couldn't feel the floor with her feet anymore, but hell, she couldn't feel anything anymore. The only things that existed were Ralof's arms and his _mouth…_

The kiss was hot, frantic, and Aine felt herself yielding to him with every conceivable ease; she was tired of being in control. He allowed another gasp of air for both of them and then she mewled when his tongue found hers. She was suddenly on her feet again, her back pressed hard into rough wooden surface of the post he'd been sitting against, the stool making a muted sound when it hit the floor, and his lips moved over hers so resolutely, thoroughly, that the most unwelcome and practical question of how long he really thought they had actually occurred to her. She twisted her arms around him again and sighed into his mouth, making his hands grip painfully tight on her hips. He bent himself forward, starting a sensuous path down her jawline, the stubble on his face eliciting another gasp. She really was going to have bruises later… And with his fingerprints.

Her eyes slowly opened as she tipped her head and didn't bother trying to calm her ragged breathing. Ralof didn't notice or care, going on with his ministrations. Aine looked at the ceiling of the room in some confusion and then pressed her hands to his shoulders.

"Oh, wait," She hissed. Ralof muttered something against her throat, the sound and vibration almost doing her in, and she pushed more firmly, coming back to reality and herself, "Wait, please. Ralof, wait."

"By all the damned gods!" He returned fiercely and Aine squirmed so strongly against him, his hands slipped to the pillar on either side of her and he didn't lift his head from her level. His dark blue eyes were darker than ever and this new frustration added another thick layer of danger to that sharp gaze. She had to fight a damned good fight to keep from dropping her eyes; that just wouldn't have been smart at this juncture, "This again? Now?"

"The trap is ready."

She tried to push him away and Ralof wouldn't budge. His breathing was steadier than hers, but that look on his face… Aine had never seen him so annoyed or frustrated and this time she had to drop her eyes. Her hand was pressed near his heart and she felt the sudden lurch it gave. Her fingers curled away and she glanced up when he let out a snort of unamused laughter.

"So what? Aine Bird, so damnably frustrating, you've got to make your choice, girl. You go hot or you go cold, I can't do both. It'll tear me apart and I'm not going to play this shitty game with you."

That press for time was put second and she leaned against the pillar and looked up at him.

"Years ago, I told Meara that fear is what tells you you're heading in the right direction. I'm terrified of facing this dragon, Ralof, terrified of battling Alduin again; I'm terrified that this will be the end and I'm a dead woman," She reached up and put her fingers against his mouth when it looked like he was going to interrupt, "And I was terrified of going down that road with you last night. More the fool me, right? I'm not going to let the fear stop me anymore; I'm going to let it guide me like it used to."

Her hand wandered back to pull his head down and they kissed again. This one wasn't so frantic, but the passion behind, beneath, _through_ it left Aine trembling like a leaf and she leaned into his chest when his lips found her hair.

"Oh," She breathed, "I am a fool."

"No argument here. I've been waiting to do that for months, girl. You know that, right?"

"Why do you think I'm berating myself?

He bent his head to kiss her again and then grinned mischievously when she tipped toward him to keep the contact as he stepped back.

"You said the trap was ready?"

Aine blinked at him and then shook her head a bit. She glanced around the room and saw with relief that whoever Balgruuf had had with him in here, they left with the jarl when she decided to create a spectacle.

"I did and I suppose I'll have to swallow my shame and pride and try again."

"Yeah, well, this time you won't be on your own."

His smile made her heart drum unevenly and she blinked, trying to remember that they were in the middle of yet another task here and they couldn't go any further than this - as much as they might want to. He winked while the smile stretched into a grin and he made his way to the door that had been partially closed at some point during the… moment between them.

"Jarl, can we talk with you a minute?"

Aine's color deepened when Balgruuf came back into the room and got worse as Seamus trailed him. Her heart twisted even as affection flooded her and she was more than a little grateful that the embarrassment covered how incredibly awkward this was for her. He carried two steaming mugs of coffee and he approached her with a knowing gleam in his pale brown eyes. There was another light underneath this, something cool and almost hard, and she wasn't sure if it was just because she thought it _should_ be there or if his voice was actually a little sharp when he spoke.

"Here, I think you need this."

"Shut up," She muttered and clasped the mug between her palms. Balgruuf's smile was _not_ helping, "Honestly, Seamus… Never mind, just shut up."

"My little inferno, you wound me!"

"I'm getting really close to doing just that," She turned her attention to the jarl, ignoring Seamus' laughter. _Was that off, too?_ She mentally reprimanded herself and almost apologized to Balgruuf and then decided against it. That was an - itch - she had had to scratch and to refer back to it with one that was only involved by default was not gaining her a damned thing. _An itch to scratch?_ A voice in her head quizzed. _A bit harsh, huh?_ She brushed that aside as well and tried to focus her attention on what really mattered, "The trap is ready, Balgruuf, and so are we. Let me know when your guard-"

"They've been ready since last night. We're just waiting on your word… Dragonborn."

Aine glanced between Ralof and Seamus and nodded her head.

"We're ready."


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** Not _as_ late this time! Thanks to all my patient readers and I hope you thoroughly enjoy; and once again, I borrowed shamelessly from Bethesda's dragons' speech and give all the credit to their creators. Take care!

* * *

The Whiterun guards lined themselves in front of the giant doors leading to the rest of Dragonsreach and Seamus, Ralof, and Percival stood just forward of them. Percival hadn't bothered trying to corner Aine again and she wouldn't have allowed it if he had. Ralof had kept her rather distracted anyway and things happened quickly when she told the jarl they were ready. Preparations were over really before they began and she held her head high as she walked out onto the balcony to summon Odahviing. Her companions broke from the guard and stopped again at the doorway to the balcony, their weapons at the ready.

"Remember, I need him alive."

"That all depends on how he treats you, little inferno."

"Exactly. Be careful, my girl, I'm not losing you now that I have you."

Aine's face flushed with color and Seamus sent her an almost salacious wink which she did her best to ignore. Percival was brushed off and he didn't offer any words of encouragement anyway. She stepped to the railing and Shouted the dragon's name. The words echoed in the still cold air and there was a moment of complete stasis. The men behind her shifted their weight and she heard the clink of armor against sword hilts and shields, but she didn't break her concentration on the plains spread in front of them. Everything was caught in an astounding silence and then everyone tensed when the roar sounded over the snow-capped ridge. Aine tightened her hold on her bow and the fletching of the arrow tickled her fingers. She didn't remember grabbing the thing and there wasn't enough time to consider that.

A huge winged shape appeared in the distance and she heard the faint curses and orders from the men around and below her. The dragon swooped closer, the deep red and dark grey scales shining even darker in the faint light. Its horned head curled back on the sinewy neck and the beast let out a roar that shook the very foundations of the building. She held up one hand.

"Hold!"

She heard Percival's soft cursing and Seamus said her name. She shook her head fiercely and held her position until Odahviing was within fifty yards or so. She let the arrow fly and then dove to one side as shards of ice rained down at them. The men fell back and she rolled, trying to keep her concentration sharp. From her prone position on the cold stones, she Shouted, utilizing Dragonrend. It caught Odahviing in the belly and he tumbled from the sky with a shriek. Aine rolled again and this time without thinking. She sprang to her feet when the dragon hit the balcony and cursed roundly. Seamus and Ralof's voices were barely audible and she had to do some very quick thinking when she realized fully that she had just put the beast between herself and the rest of Dragonsreach. She Shouted again before Odahviing could get his bearings and the flames erupted around his horns, making him rear back with a roar. His front feet slammed against the stone floor and his tail whipped back and forth dangerously, forcing the men further into the room.

Aine felt the pull at her strength and she danced away from another gout of razor-sharp ice shards, wondering how she was going to do this. She needed Odahviing to turn and follow her into the dragon trap and she wasn't positive she could get by him without getting crushed under one of his feet or clamped between his jaws. The beast darted for her and she dived again, rolling across the floor and terrified of his speed. The wings flapped strongly, sending gusts swirling about that smelled like death, and he was a few feet off the balcony when Aine used Dragonrend a second time and grounded him. She followed it up with the flames and she almost lost her balance when her strength failed her. Ralof, Seamus, and the rest darted forward and attacked the dragon's back legs as though they sensed her weakness. The beast whirled to face them and went on the offensive with that same speed.

Aine shoved her exhaustion away and chased after him. Odahviing's sharp head snaked forward, going for Percival, and Aine called the order. The two soldiers on the walkways hit the releases and the yoke crashed down onto the dragon's neck, pinning him to the floor just inches from Percival's feet. The Imperial's pale eyes flashed up to hers and he slammed his sword back into the hilt.

"What the hell, Bird?"

"What? You're fine."

"Fine? You see how close this thing came to me?" He gestured to the dragon's snout and took a few steps back, "Were you hoping I'd be fried?"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't have that ability, Perce, you shouldn't have worried," Aine moved forward, ignoring the pointed look from Seamus. She was studying Odahviing's horned head and she put herself in a position to look into the beast's fierce orange eye, "Besides-"

"And that's supposed to make me laugh, tell me everything's fine? Come on, Bird-"

"Yes, actually, it is. Now if you don't mind, let me finish this. Find someone else to stroke your ego and kiss your hurts, I'm not in the mood."

Percival's face spasmed with anger and Seamus' hand landed on his shoulder. Aine turned completely to the dragon, her temper flaring at her friend's show of undeserved pity. Odahviing looked rather murderous and she needed her focus to be on him.

"My name is-"

"Zu'u bonaar. I know your name, joor. Your presence foretells our doom, dovah, if prophecies are to be believed. You went to a great deal of trouble to place me in this - humiliating position. Hind siiv Alduin, yes? You wish to know where to find Alduin?"

Aine blinked at him and slowly tucked her bow away. Beyond the dragon's trapped body she saw spits of snow starting down and the sky grew even more grey. She met his gaze again, acutely aware of Ralof and Seamus closing ranks behind her.

"I do. Was that an offer to tell me where he's hiding? To be quite honest, Odahviing, I didn't expect it to be this easy. Is there a catch?"

"Rinik vazah. Alduin bovul. Apt, dovah, apt. I answered your call to test your Thu'um myself. There have been - questions among ourselves whether Alduin's Thu'um was strongest. Mu ni meyye. None of us have questioned him openly."

"But you doubt and that's all I need. Where can I find him?"

Odahviing shifted his head against the floor and Aine almost wanted to release him from his trap. She glanced at the men on the walkways and knew neither one of them would be willing to act on her word.

"He returned to Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the sillesejoor - the souls of the mortal dead. It is a privilege most jealously guarded by him. His door to Sovngarde is at one of the ancient fanes high in the eastern mountains: Skuldafn. Mindoraa, pah ok middovahhe lahvraan til. I do not need to warn you, dovah, that all his remaining strength has been marshaled there. Now, zu'u lost ofan hin laan… I answered your request, might I be set free?"

Aine cocked her head at him, the orange eye she looked into catching and holding her attention. Odahviing wasn't even close to Paarthurnax's age, but there was an old wisdom here that she would be a fool to disregard. The mischievous glint gave her pause and she didn't need the sound Seamus made in protest.

"I need your help, Odahviing, your further help. Alduin is a powerful foe and I'm sure us mere mortals will flounder helplessly against him. Can you help?"

She could have sworn she saw a flicker of something like respect in the depths of that eye and she arched her brows.

"Krosis. There is one… detail I have not mentioned about Skuldafn."

"And?"

"Your Thu'um is strong, dovah, very strong, but without the wings of a dov, you cannot hope to reach Alduin and Skuldafn. I however can take you there, though not while imprisoned like this."

Aine almost smiled and she crossed her arms over her chest. She was starting to appreciate this dragon.

"Very shrewd, Odahviing. Now what? This doesn't exactly garner trust."

"Orin brit ro. Indeed. I am unable to leave this place until Alduin is vanquished, which you cannot do without my help. The choice is yours, dovah."

She chewed her bottom lip and studied him. He was right, she really didn't have a choice at this point and she hated the uncertainty. There was no way to tell if this was a trap or not, she would have to go along with it and the fear was almost debilitating. The dragon rolled his eyes at her and she immediately thought of Seamus in his playful moods. However, this didn't ease her spirit.

"I have a hard time taking your word, to be honest."

"And yet, this changes nothing. Krosis. Go and investigate the eastern peaks if you must, dovah. Nothing changes."

"Can we have a minute?"

Aine jumped when Ralof's words came in her ear and she gave him a nod before waving one hand at Odahviing. The Nord's hand was in the crook of her elbow and he led her to Seamus, Percival, and Balgruuf's knot. The doors to Dragonsreach were propped open just wide enough for a body and Farengar approached them with enormous eyes. Irileth followed close behind and she kept him from the dragon for the time being.

"Are you seriously considering this?"

Aine glanced at Balgruuf, hardly registering that Ralof hadn't let go of her. She met the jarl's gaze and lifted her shoulders before she could help it.

"I don't have much of a choice, Balgruuf. I don't think for a minute that he'd tell me to go investigate the peaks knowing it means leaving him in this trap. No one would be so masochistic."

"Well-"

"And what's to stop this thing from tipping you off his back the moment you leave Dragonsreach?" Balgruuf interrupted Seamus without a blink, his eyes never leaving Aine, "You know this is a fools errand."

"Is it? I mean, do we really know that? Odahviing does have a good reason to lie to us, true, but I believe him when he says that they've lost faith in Alduin," Aine raised her voice a bit when Balgruuf's lips parted, "Dragons are just as proud of their strength and honor as we are and they now have a commander that isn't doing what they think will better their race. Is it so strange to believe that they'll rise up against him and look for someone who will?"

"Is that what you're suggesting, Aine? That you'll be their leader now?"

Farengar's derisive voice earned a withering glare from Aine and Seamus snorted with laughter.

"Take it easy, Chuckles," He cut in, "Anni's making a point. You talk to her for two seconds about this and you'll see this is the last thing she wants. Although if you want to see an explosion-"

"Seamus," Aine muttered and waited for her friend to stop talking. Ralof squeezed her elbow and she fought the urge to look at him, "He's right, I'm making a point. I needed to trap a dragon here to use him, let me use him."

Balgruuf frowned rather pensively at her and glanced at Seamus and Ralof. His expression was still troubled and he lifted his shoulders in what looked like a superb defeat.

"Well, I suppose with your companions you'll be safe enough."

"No, joor, I bear only the dovah to Skuldafn."

Aine's lifted spirits tumbled, but only because her temple flared. She sent a poisoned look at Odahviing, wishing with all her might that the dragon had kept his horny mouth shut. She had no intention of taking Seamus or Ralof with her and she had been hoping to ditch them at the last moment, when they wouldn't have warning. And now, they both protested at the same time and she hated the dragon for putting them even more on their guard. Ralof pulled at her arm as he and Seamus talked over one another and she set her heels, yanking herself free.

"Stop pulling, it's not a damned tug-of-war game."

"Isn't it?" He challenged, mirroring her words and making her blink at him. He was too damn astute, "Tell me you didn't intend to do this on your own, Aine Bird."

She stared at him for a moment, the more base side of her brain wanting to remember the way his mouth felt, what it was like to be pressed against him; how tonight they could- She shook her head and buried those memories as some little part of her died.

"You know I can't."

His expression transitioned from triumphant to stricken to completely blank in a matter of seconds and he waved one hand at her as his gaze went around to the others. Seamus frowned at her and for all the world looked like a scolded puppy.

"Anni, what are you trying to do?"

"What do you think?" She snapped, anger _so_ much easier than any of the other feelings swarming her, "It's down to me, Seamus. _Me_. And I can't let anyone else die in this process, not if there's a way to immediately prevent it. This is one of those times."

"You're a bloody fool, Aine."

"We've already established that," She had softened her words to Ralof and had to press on in the same breath when his eyes lit and his hands clenched into fists, "Besides, Odahviing has already said he's only going to take me. I'm pretty sure that settles everything right there."

The others glanced between themselves as Aine waited, trying to calm her temper. They were being fools. The dragon told them what to expect and if they really wanted to end this madness, they knew they had to let her go. She debated running for Odahviing and then remembered the yoke. Curses rolled through her brain and she was already forming an alternative to their help when Balgruuf looked at her.

"You said yourself: he has a good reason to lie to us."

The words were spoken without much conviction and a tiny spark of hope burst to life in Aine's heart. She inclined her head, but Seamus spoke first.

"How about breakfast, yeah? Food makes everything better."

Aine blinked at him and heard Odahviing shift behind her. His claws raked the stone floor and she found herself hating the idea of prolonging the 'humiliating' position.

"Food?"

"It's Seamus, Bird," Percival spoke for the first time since their argument, "What do you expect?"

"And I will admit to having something of an appetite myself," Ralof stepped forward and reached for her arm, "Come on, girl, let's discuss this more over breakfast."

She sidestepped, not wanting him to touch her just yet. Another bit of her died at that flicker of surprised hurt in his face and she turned her attention to the jarl.

"So we're just leaving Odahviing like this?"

"What? You'd prefer we let him go? Skaar's right, we'll talk over breakfast."

"I-"

Seamus succeeded where Ralof failed. He had her elbow in one hand and was steering her to the door before she could finish.

"It wasn't a suggestion, little inferno."

The stubborn nature of the Nords was on full display during their talks over breakfast and Aine was more than up for the challenge. It was exhausting, but she refused to give ground. Unfortunately, they did the same and it was a draining couple of hours before Balgruuf was called away to deal with a matter Irileth claimed could not wait. Percival was the only one to not participate, though Aine knew he'd side with Seamus because it went against her; not withstanding the little voice that whispered that he might actually agree with her if only perversely. The men seemed to be of one accord: this was Aine Bird's death knell. And Percival would be all for that, after all.

Aine cupped her fifth mug of coffee in one hand and sat back in the wooden chair, ignoring the others now and welcoming the respite. Ralof and Hrongar spoke quietly together and Seamus busied himself with his second helping of sausage and eggs. Percival sat silent at his side and Farengar once again turned to the sheafs of notes he'd spread across his end of the table. Aine allowed her eyes to roam the room. The servants were still minimal though there were more guards than ever and the whole atmosphere of the great hall was tense and watchful. Which explained why the sight of an additional member of their party was so encouraging. It made her half-formed alternative suddenly take on new life and appear more doable than she ever would have believed.

Frothar's quick, bright gaze moved over the room as Aine's had and he grinned when he spotted her. She smiled back and he scurried over. His cheeks were flushed with more than just the cold air outside and he was all wondering curiousity, his sturdy body practically trembling with excitement.

"They said you did it, that there's a _real_ dragon here," His words tumbled over each other and he pressed his hands to the arm of her chair, "Can I see it? Please, Aine? Da said if I kept a distance and went with someone, I could. Please?"

Aine couldn't help but laugh at his exuberance; it was so contagious. She finished the rest of her coffee and got to her feet.

"Of course," She answered and grinned at his crow of triumph, "Come on, let's go and introduce you."

Frothar danced up the steps ahead of her and she ignored the heat of the looks from Seamus and Ralof. She just hoped that they would believe she wouldn't do anything as stupid as what she was considering with the boy present; and some of that must've been the case because neither of them followed. The top office was deserted and she crossed to the pile of arms near the heavy desk. As though working on some unspoken agreement, all of them had left the larger pieces of their armory here. Swords criss-crossed with axes and Aine's bow and arrows were laid a bit apart. She took up both and returned the large dagger and axe to their places. Frothar gave her a curious look and she lifted her shoulders.

"Just in case."

She winked at him to ease some of the worry that suddenly sprang into his eyes and he grinned again, himself once more. Aine felt the burden of that trust. Here was a boy who clearly idolized and respected her, trusted her to keep him safe, and she was about to exploit that to its fullest. An unfamiliar twinge of guilt hit her and she almost put her weapons back. Almost. That practical side of her demanded action, however she could manage, and this was ideal. She went first into the 'dragon trap' and felt more than saw Odahviing's orange eyes roll in her direction. She could practically feel his relief and Frothar's gasp of amazement was very faint. The four guards in the room huddled close to the doors and Aine wondered how far her luck would stretch. She met the gaze of the senior officer and stepped a little closer.

"Lord Frothar wanted to see the dragon. If you men would like, I can watch him," The man's eyes flicked and Aine took another step, lowering her voice, "Your master doesn't have to know. The Dragonborn is more than capable of dealing with a dragon and if you wait right outside the door, you will be within earshot."

"If you're sure, lady?"

"I am the Dragonborn, right?"

The man dropped his gaze and gave her a bow. She kept up that farce of cool superiority and he didn't meet her eyes again.

"Forgive me, lady, of course. We will be right outside if you need us."

The men slipped out in single file, not one of them looking at her or the dragon and she turned back to Frothar. He seemed frozen in place and she couldn't help the smile that started across her face. This was turning out so much better than she ever hoped.

"What do you think, Frothar?"

"I don't - can it - he - talk?"

"I am more than capable of speech, little joor. Krosis. What is it you wish to know?"

Frothar jumped back, his hand gripping Aine's wrist tightly. He couldn't seem to look away from Odahviing and the orange eyes were mild, almost kind.

"I - I don't know. I just wondered…" His voice trailed away and he looked up at Aine finally. His face was concerned, "Does that thing hurt him?"

Aine never thought it would be this easy.

"I think he'd complain that it's more humiliating than anything and that's painful enough in its own way. But it doesn't look pleasant does it?"

"But why keep it? He's not going to hurt anyone, is he? I think he wants to help."

She blinked, thrown from her current objective for the moment. Her eyes caught Odahviing's and then she frowned down at Frothar who hadn't let go of her just yet.

"Why do you say that, Frothar? What makes you think he wouldn't attack if he was free?"

Frothar shrugged a little and his expression was very thoughtful.

"I don't… I mean, look at him. He's trapped and he didn't think that would happen. Da always says that those you trap that didn't expect it make the best allies right at first. He says respect is the most important."

Aine let out a humorless chuckle. If only Balgruuf remembered the lessons he taught his son! She nodded her head and looked up at the dragon again.

"As it happens, I agree with him completely. And I need Odahviing to end Alduin. Unfortunately, the others don't think he's trustworthy and they're worried about me. What do you think?"

"I think if you can save us all, you should," Frothar spoke slowly, but his eyes were direct and honest, "And you shouldn't let them stop you."

"Then would you help me? I don't think we can wait for them to agree with me and the guards won't act without - just because I ask. Remember showing me how the cranks worked? Would you do that again? If your father scolds, you tell him it was all my idea and not yours, which is the absolute truth. Please, Frothar, I want this done and Odahviing is the only way to finish it, and I can't-"

"Do anything with him trapped here," Frothar interrupted slowly and his dark eyes flicked between the dragon and the large doors, "That's why you sent them out, right? You know they would stop you."

"That they would," Aine agreed quietly and didn't look away from the little boy, "Sometimes, when everyone is telling you one thing and getting in your way and telling you you're wrong, you have to be brave enough to tell them _they_ are wrong. Even when they are doing that thing to protect and care for you. That's when true bravery comes into play, standing up for what's right - to your friends and those you love - even if it means you are sacrificing yourself or your freedom."

"Like you," His voice had dropped to just above a whisper and she nodded, still not looking away. He waffled for a brief moment and then rushed forward and threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly. Aine stepped back in surprise, but didn't push him from her. She hesitated for only a second and then hugged him back, struck at the mix of maturity and youth in the boy, "I'll help. You need me to run one of the cranks?"

"Exactly," She put her hands on his shoulders when he let her go, "And then - and this is really important - you need to stay on that platform until the two of us are gone. I mean it, Frothar, I can't have you getting hurt, so you stay put. Got it?"

"Yeah, Aine, I've got it."

"Good boy. You take that one and I'll grab the other. Go on."

She waited while he skirted the dragon and scrambled up the ladder. He looked awfully small standing there, but she gave him a reassuring nod and headed for the other side.

"As soon as that's up, Odahviing, we're gone," She said quietly to the beast. The large orange eye looked back at her, expressionless, "And don't make me regret this."

"Not at all, dovah. Krosis. You go to this much trouble and I am - grateful."

Aine was strangely conscious of the feel of the wooden rungs under her fingers and she thought briefly of Seamus and Ralof in the room below. That might have been the last time she'd ever speak to or see them and her heart twisted rather painfully. Seamus' lively grin and dancing eyes sprang up and then her thoughts turned to the way Ralof had held her, the kisses; how she wanted nothing more than to shut them both in a room and forget about the outside world… But life was never going to be _that_ fair and she was going to have to be satisfied with these memories.

She moved rather mechanically to the crank in the wall and grasped the smooth wooden handle. Glancing over the dragon's back at Frothar, she wondered why he looked so concerned and frightened, even from this distance. And then the voice spoke.

"Are you really sure this is for the best, my girl? I mean, really, involving the jarl's boy? How desperate are you?"

Aine stiffened, not wanting to turn and not having a choice. She satisfied herself with a partial one and glanced at Ralof. He stood only a few feet from her, close to the top of the ladder and she wondered how distracted she was that she missed him. He must have climbed the ladder right behind her after all and there was no way he would have missed her interaction with the boy. The only redeeming factor in any of this - if there was one - was that the guards were still absent and she arched her brows at the Nord, trying to force herself to think of anything but the fact that she wanted to feel his stubble-coarsened face against her skin again.

"You've made me _very_ desperate, Ralof. I can't let anyone else die in this venture, I _won't_ , and the dragon's not going to allow anyone but me to Skuldafn. What choice do I have?"

"Any you want, Aine, really. You're such a stubborn little thing, you can't see that the beast is using you to get free. Once he is and you leave with him, he's going to dump you off of him, devour you, freeze your lovely bones, and you've just screwed us all over because you're so obsessed with the fact that _you_ are right and we're just obstacles. I never would have believed you to be this selfish, this willfully self-destructive. What happened to you?"

"Stop distracting me, Ralof," She snapped and her voice wasn't nearly as firm as she would have liked, "I've made up my mind and you know it won't do any good. This is my task, not yours. It's not Seamus' or Balgruuf's, or even the Blades' or Greybeards'. It's mine and I'm seeing it through."

Ralof's eyes flickered and he uncrossed his arms. Tipping his head at her, he looked so disappointed that she almost found herself caving, but that other side of her stood firm. He shook his head a little and took a small step forward.

"Then you don't leave me with any choice here, girl."

He opened his mouth to call for the guard, Aine was certain, and she reacted.

"And neither do you. Now!"

Frothar didn't hesitate, hitting the crank as she did. The yoke lifted upward just enough for Odahviing to free his large head and Aine Shouted a moment later. The force knocked Ralof from the platform and he tumbled, landing hard on his back. Aine shoved the guilt brutally aside and leapt down the ladder, landing lightly beside him. The Nord was quick and reached for her ankle, but Aine darted out of the way and jumped onto Odahviing's neck when he lowered his head for her. She gripped the strangely warm horns and held tight when the beast turned about more easily than she ever would have thought in this smallish space for him. He stepped out onto the balcony and spread his leathery wings.

Aine's last sight of Dragonsreach was Ralof, standing in the doorway of the 'dragon trap' and staring after her like he had just lost everything dear to him.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N:** I absolutely jinxed myself, huh? Here I was, all cocky about posting again early and I'm a MONTH late... AGAIN! So sorry, my faithful - patient - readers and I dearly hope everything is going smoothly and happily in your lives! All the best and as always take care -catalina

And of course, all of this wonderful, engaging world belongs to those clever people at Bethesda.

* * *

Aine clenched and unclenched her fingers, still trying to recover body heat from the long, _freezing_ , ride on Odahviing's back. It had been one of the most uncomfortable experiences of her life. She had never been afraid of heights, but there were times when she had to close her eyes, grip the dragon's slippery scales, and pray to whatever gods there were that she wouldn't be bucked off. The movement of Odahviing's wings had been rather terrifying and she didn't think she'd ever feel so relieved to have solid ground under her again. And then there was this damn fortress to sneak through, draugr to avoid, another word wall and that debilitating surge of power, and - most recently - the blasted frost spiders that nearly sent her over the edge. She wasn't able to sneak around them and she killed them as quickly and quietly as she could manage.

They seemed to be the last obstacle and she ended up at the top of the huge, sprawling fortress. The large stones were dark with age and wear and the cold bit at her. She was near the top of the peaks here and the air felt thin. Reluctantly, she stepped from the protection of the doorway and its alcove, remembering the two dragons that had been perched a few levels below her. They hadn't made any move to attack, unlike the one that charged her the instant Odahviing flew off, and she was hoping they kept up that habit of watching her progress like one watches a fish in a tank. That thought was more than a little unsettling and she forced herself to move.

There were more archways and small lookout platforms here and she hated the nooks and crannies where anything could be hiding. The mere _idea_ of the spiders made her skin itch and crawl. The way was clear and she stopped quite suddenly at the view. The edge of the fortress roof just seemed to end about ten feet from her and the drop back down into the glacial valley would make anyone dizzy. She took a few more cautious steps forward, mesmerized by the harsh, almost cruel beauty of the jagged peaks and then felt the whole atmosphere tighten. The ice missed her by inches and she threw herself back against the wall. The barrage came from above and she cursed roundly. The air tightened even more and she waited, listening for whether or not it was one or several that she'd have to take of. Another gout of icicles slammed into the flagstones and she tipped her head against the wall to avoid the shards that kicked about. She had her bow in one hand and the fletching of her arrow tickled her fingers, but still the enemy didn't speak.

Aine hesitated and then moved swiftly and silently along the wall, holding out hope that it really was just one sorcerer up there. The crackle of lightning was loud in her ears when it sailed a few feet from her as she slipped around a corner and she let out a little sigh of relief. At least the thing didn't know exactly where she was anymore. Not that this was helpful in the long run. The steps to the upper level were here and she felt that relief fade just as quickly when she saw that they were completely open; she had no way to creep up on this bastard.

Her bow was in hand and the fletching tickled her fingers as she applied tension to the string. More icicles hit the stones near her and though it was still clear the sorcerer didn't know where she was, he had made a good guess. The smaller pieces flew up again and burned with that strange heat she remembered from outside Sky Haven and for some reason the sudden thought of Seamus nearly made her drop the bow.

She actually staggered for a moment, putting out one hand to catch herself against the wall. Her heart gave a tremendous wrench and she had to catch her breath, realizing she might never see him again. Confusion chased at the heels of this and she tipped her head against the cold stone beside her. It wasn't like the thought hadn't hit her before, she knew when she - all right, manipulated - Frothar into helping her that that was the end. Her feelings for him and for Ralof were still so confused and this intensity around those for Seamus left her shaking. She just didn't know what to do…

"I should have let him say goodbye."

She whispered the words to herself, forgetting for that brief moment where she was. And that Meara-like voice immediately posed the only valid argument there was.

 _Don't even start with that! You know he'd never have let you go and you need to focus. Get rid of this sorcerer and end Alduin before he ends you._

Aine's hurt spurred her and she leaned out from her hiding spot, turning swiftly to look at the upper level. There was a hulking shape that floated above her and she heard him hiss, the tattered garment he wore whipping back as he prepared to fling another spell. Aine let the arrow fly and the hoarse grunt was encouraging. She knocked a second arrow, letting another gout of ice to hit the floor before she repeated her tactics. The grunt was more of a cry this time and she darted for the steps, taking full advantage of his distraction. She reached the second landing when the sorcerer recovered himself and he was suddenly at the very top of the flight, blocking her way forward. There was no protection whatsoever on this landing and that practical side of her head demanded to know what the hell she had been thinking. Shoving that aside, she brought her arms up and took what time she had to aim. The sorcerer was just as ready for her and they fired at the same time. The ice shards hit Aine's right shoulder, causing her to fall back with an anguished cry, and the sorcerer dropped with the bright red fletching jutting from his eye.

She had to catch herself before she tumbled back down the steps and then frantically tried to brush the ice from the exposed skin at her neck. A moan escaped her when the heat just transferred to her fingers. It was no use, the pain just intensified and she forced herself to stop spreading it. Instead she got to her feet and made her way to the sorcerer, tearing a portion off his robe. She wiped the remainder of the ice from her skin and let out a sigh of relief. It felt raw, but at least it wasn't burning anymore.

And then the portal caught her attention fully and her wounds didn't matter all that much. The courtyard here was wide and mostly flat with the peaks of the mountains surrounding it. There were a few natural pillars of stones at the perimeter, but the ones straight ahead were man-made and stunning. They curled up from the flagstones, bending toward the blue-white light of the portal and Aine approached the odd, out of place set of steps that led straight to it.

There were only a dozen or so and at the top was a small platform, braced at each corner with more fingers of stone, and carved directly in the middle was an intricate stone with a small round hole. She frowned and crouched to trace the shape with one finger. The stone was strangely warm, as though it was alive, and she studied the unavoidable Nordic pattern around the slot. The hole wasn't large, she couldn't fit more than two of her fingers into it, and she thought it was the strangest place to put a flag.

She got to her feet, still looking down at the stone, and couldn't shake off that feeling she was missing something crucial. The portal was a slender shaft of light that pierced the grey sky and this close, she caught flashes of gold in that blue that made her think of - Her practical side squashed that quickly. _Seamus about ended you, what would thoughts of_ him _do?_

Shaking her head, she focused on the task at hand and even though she stood a few feet above it, there was something about the floor around the portal that didn't look quite - complete. The burns on her neck suddenly itched and she reached with one hand when it hit her.

 _It's not a flag, you idiot, it's a staff! Why the hell else would they have a sorcerer here?!_ Aine dropped back down beside the sorcerer's prone body and heaved him up and off the staff that just protruded from under his stomach. It was finished beautifully, the dark wood nearly black, and the intricacy of the dragon's head made her believe it might actually burn her if she used it wrong. She carried it back up the steps and slipped the end of it into the slot. It fit perfectly and the portal suddenly expanded.

Aine dropped to a crouch and threw one arm up to protect her eyes. There was a sharp sound of stone against stone and she leaned forward to look down at the floor of the portal. Her breath escaped her and she pressed her palms flat as she studied the unreal scene below. The light of the portal had become a pink-purple like the sky at sunset, and the huge flagstones looked no more substantial than pieces of parchment. They seemed to float in that pink light, wavering and flapping like - well, like flags.

She merely watched them for a moment, fascinated by this enchantment, and then she remembered why she was here. She got to her feet and glanced about again. There was no real indication of how to go about this and she studied the sloped edges of the portal. Everything kind of twisted downward like a drain and she inhaled a deep breath, not looking forward to this. She slung her bow back over her shoulder, double-checked that her axe and knife were well secured, and then stepped back and took a running jump into the portal.

The light surrounded her, becoming so bright she had to close her eyes. The rush of air tried to rip her hair from its twisted together braids and then her feet were on solid ground. She felt the soft caress of a breeze against her cheek and she opened her eyes again. The beauty around her made her gasp and she stood absolutely still, taking everything in. The peak she stood on was gently rounded and stone steps cut into the incline below, sloping gradually to a mist-covered valley. Strong sturdy pines and cedars stood sentinel at the edge of this and smaller shrubs and trees grew close to her. Jagged mountain peaks lay ahead and the white snow was brilliant in the starlight. It was this star-studded sky that had Aine momentarily entranced and she tipped her head to study it more completely.

She had heard of the lights in the night sky if one traveled far enough north; there were a few in Solitude that claimed they had seen it there and she had never believed them. Hell, she'd lived in the city her whole life and never had the good luck to witness it. And here they were in all their gorgeous glory. Streaks of pale blue that deepened to royal purple in a blink of an eye and forest greens that faded to a shade of pale yellow Aine knew could never exist outside of this place. The whole sky was brilliant with this light show, the twinkling stars adding a whole other layer of beauty and it made her heart ache. She let out another breath and even took a moment to consider that, Alduin at the back of her mind for now.

There was something so - pure about the lights overhead. They promised a peace she had been searching for for years, that calm of spirit and everything else that had always been just out of reach. She had thought she finally got there in Solitude when she paid that over-weight little Imperial for the rooms above the alchemist. Those small, neat rooms that hummed with gentle conversation from below during the day and smelled of herbs and tinctures in the evening. She remembered how painstakingly she had furnished and decorated the place, putting those - mostly - ill-gotten trinkets on the small tables and deep windowsills, buying new fabric for her battered couch and refinishing the cushions with extra padding; even how proud she had been of her collection of books that dominated one whole corner of that tiny front room. And all of this was gone, sold or probably parceled out to help the Imperial cover the cost of renting her little kingdom again, and the idea of that hurt more deeply than she ever thought possible. She stared up at the promise-filled sky and sorrow pierced her like one of her arrows. Those promises were never meant for her kind and never had been.

She inhaled sharply and let Alduin and his threat come roaring back to the forefront of her thoughts. The path was in precise focus and she started down before this sentiment got her killed. Ralof threatened to creep into her head then and she put him away with the promises overhead, allowing Seamus a little more wiggle-room. He belonged so completely to her, cut from the same piece of cloth, and she could see his crooked grin and dancing eyes as clearly as if he stood at her elbow again. And she wondered quite bluntly if this was why she was so confused about him. It certainly played its part, no question about that, but she just didn't think that was all there was and his voice was _so_ clear in her head. _No, little inferno, my Anni, we're not hero material. Long lives and happy endings aren't ours unless we let everything else go. And how many of us can actually do that?_ If she would have let it, that Meara-voice would have argued that Seamus Hady would always tell his inferno that she would have her happily ever after, with whoever she wanted, and never try to convince her otherwise. But she wasn't going to allow that, not today. Not today.

The mist suddenly appeared before her and the form of the Stormcloak soldier made her grab her bow again. She hesitated before she let the arrow drop back into the quiver. The man's expression was confused, bewildered, and he stepped toward her desperately rather than in a threatening fashion.

"I can't make it, the mist… It's not right. It shouldn't be here and I can't get through it."

Aine held her bow loose, but didn't put it away. She glanced behind him at the mist and then met his gaze again. His face was strained and the terror there wasn't exactly encouraging.

"What do you mean, you can't get through?" She could hear the strain in her own voice, though hers was because of her - moment - on the peak behind her, "Does it hurt you?"

"I can't get through," He repeated even more desperately and his pale eyes seemed to bug in his face, "I have to get to the Hall of Valor, but I can't make it. Am I doomed to wander here forever?"

Aine vaguely recollected that the Hall of Valor was where the souls of the dead gathered until the end of days and she couldn't help that little flash of pity at the soldier's plight. The man, if his words were believed, was truly lost here. He had to reach the Hall to find peace and if he didn't…

"All right, so what's stopping you? How can we do this?"

"Alduin stalks the mist. He has since I arrived here and I think he's the one that conjured it. He watches and guards it tirelessly. The other Stormcloaks that got here have tried to make it and I'm sure that some actually did, but… the screams of the others - I can't… I can't…"

She held up one hand and stopped his flow of faltering excuses. Contempt reared its head and she almost rolled her eyes before she stopped herself. She had decided up on that ridge that she was going to play her old self and embrace that thief's nature with both arms again; and that meant using this man for her own benefit. Meara's voice started to protest this and she shoved it away. Her friend had been the empathetic one, the one that didn't like the more questionable methods, and Aine supposed that side of the Altmer's character had been a benefit to her, if she was being honest. But her own way was usually _much_ more effective.

"Well, you've been trying alone. Come with me, I need to get through as well."

The man stared at her for a moment and his eyes flickered uncertainly and then he nodded. Aine kept her bow in hand and turned to the mist. It moved like water, stretching out fingers and drawing back in an undulating, mesmerizing movement. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, and exhaled before stepping into the white depths. The damp chill surrounded her and she heard and felt the soldier stumbling behind her. She almost wished she had asked his name and shrugged it away, turning her attention to the mist and the obstacle it represented.

Like any fog, it distorted everything. Shrubs and rocks loomed out suddenly and caused a treacherous way forward and Aine was sure she heard whispers and calls of faint voices as they pressed through. She had just started to wonder how wide the valley was when the soldier snatched at her arm and tugged her down into a crouch. His worried expression was barely visible and Aine heard the _swoosh_ then. She ignored the way the man's hand tightened on her arm and glanced up toward the sky. The mist deepened and then cleared just long enough to afford a glimpse of the enormous dragon as it soared over them. Aine ducked her head back down and yanked the soldier beside her. He went without protest and she waited until the sound of its wings faded before meeting the man's gaze. His terror was deep, but he seemed to have remembered he was a soldier and he looked ready to follow whatever she said.

"All right, it's too late to turn back now, we need to keep moving forward," She couldn't keep her eyes from wandering upwards, but the mist had thickened and made any view impossible, "Any idea how much farther?"

"None, I've never been able to get this far."

"Okay," She had expected as much and she inclined her head, "So we just have to keep moving. Are you ready?"

The man answered by unsheathing his sword with a quiet whisper of metal. She gave him a smile and turned to move forward again. Now that she was straining to hear the dragon, Aine could definitely hear whispers in the white depths and it was - unsettling. The voices were desperate, some pained, and she got so wrapped up in them the attack took her by complete surprise. The soldier cursed roundly and this time it was him yanking her down to the ground. The mist swept back in the draft from the huge wings and Aine pressed her face to the ground, trying to get as small as possible. As soon as the sound faded, she jumped to her feet and ran forward, the soldier hot on her heels. There was another rush of air and as the man covered her a second time, she saw the faint glimmer of light ahead. The soldier's exhalation was loud in her ear and he gripped her hand tightly as they ran. Another sweep made the lights appear that much closer and then the man screamed and Aine's arm was jerked painfully upward. She dropped back to the ground just as suddenly and she grabbed her bow, knocked an arrow, and scanned the sky for the dragon as the soldier's cries grew fainter. It was no use, there was nothing she could do for him anymore and as the scream ended abruptly, she bolted again.

It was difficult. She kept having to jump over rocks and swerve to avoid the stunted bushes that loomed at her and at any moment she expected to hear the _swoosh_ again. It took a second to realize that there had been additional screams with the soldier's and this was what made her think she could still hear his echo even now. She kept scanning the mist for those flashes of light and the rush made her glance over her shoulder as she ran. And just like that, she was free of the world of white and damp and crashing into a heavily muscled - very naked - chest.

A surprised grunt escaped her and she shoved away, her hand finding an arrow. The man muttered in what sounded like Nordic, but she wasn't entirely sure. She knew the language and this had similar sounds and she understood a word or two though for the most part, it didn't make sense. He hadn't reached for his own weapon and she remembered that rush of air and spun to eye the mist and that light-streaked sky.

There was nothing; no dragon, no anguished soldier, not even the shapes and shadows that could have explained the whispers she heard. Her heart hammered in her chest and it was a struggle to get her breathing back under control. She slowly faced the man she almost tackled and reluctantly, _so_ reluctantly, lowered the bow and kept the arrow firmly knocked. There was no need to be silly about this.

The man was indeed a Nord: tall and broad through the chest and shoulders. He wore pants made of thick, tough hide, a broad belt studded with gleaming silver that matched the gauntlets at each wrist, and fur lined boots. His dark hair skimmed his shoulders and the leather band and turned back sides kept it from swinging into his eyes. The muscular chest was bare save an impressive array of what looked like bear claws or teeth of some kind strung on another leather band from his thick neck. His features had that same rugged attraction of Ralof and Ulfric and his dark eyes gleamed with intensity when he looked at her.

"Well now, what brings you here, wayfarer grim, to wander in Sovngarde, souls end, Shor's gift to honored dead?"

Aine blinked, trying to follow the cadence of the Nord's words. She glanced over her shoulder at the mist again and then looked beyond him at the sight before her. The jagged peaks stood stark against the sky, their feet disappearing into what had to be a massive ravine. Just behind the Nord was an enormous bridge that looked to be made of bone. A rib cage, in fact. What she originally thought were supports were actually huge rib bones, curling overhead easily twenty feet, and the walking surface of the bridge was the backbone, each vertebra taller and wider than Aine. At the other side, looking as though it had sprung from the rocky ground itself, was a sprawling structure. The stone walls gleamed white and silver in the light from the coal-filled bowls on their platforms and the thatched roofs peaked and turned and twisted as though a new addition sprouted every couple of years. Even with the distance she could see that the massive wooden doors were closed and then she remembered she wasn't alone here. The Nord was waiting patiently, eyes direct and questioning.

"I-I don't…" Aine glanced at the building behind him again and the soldier's words echoed in her ears: _I have to get to the Hall of Valor._ She met his gaze once more, "I'm sorry. I meant to say, who are you?"

This sounded so much ruder than she intended, but the Nord didn't seem to notice. He visibly straightened his shoulders and spoke in a clear, proud voice.

"I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcome, well-earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor."

"Well, that clears that up," The words escaped her before she could check herself and then she tipped a small smile at him when he frowned at her flippancy, "You guard the Hall of Valor?"

"Indeed, wayfarer, that is my task, confirming those souls that are worthy to enter. And again I question: what brings _you_ here?"

Aine quite suddenly realized that this was a test she better pass and she forced herself to pay attention, putting aside her sarcasm. The Hall of Valor housed those 'souls that are worthy' and she flashed back to the - vision - the Elder Scroll had shown her. Those heroes of old: Gormlaith, Felldir, and Hakon were without doubt inside that building and they were precisely what she needed to end Alduin. They had already bested him once, after all.

"I need to get to the Hall."

Tsun studied her for a moment, looking her up and down with a thoroughness that made her uncomfortable. He shifted his weight and cocked his head.

"No shade are you, but living, and you dare pass through the land of the dead. By what right do you demand entry?"

"By the right of the Dragonborn and I have come to end Alduin. I need help from those who stopped him in the past, your heroes of old," She waved to the Hall, "That's where they are, right?"

"No few have chafed to face that worm since he set his soul snare here at Sovngarde's threshold; a fateful errand. Shor himself has restrained our onslaught, perhaps it was your doom he foresaw," He gave her that calculating, thorough look again and a smile started across his face, "And I admit it has been too long since I last faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood."

Aine frowned, sure she had heard him wrong.

"Wait, what? What are you-"

"By Shor's decree, none may pass this perilous bridge, living or dead, until I judge them worthy with the warrior's test."

He suddenly held a huge battle axe and without any further warning, swung.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** Well, and here she is, actually on time! I hope all my loyal readers (and those new ones too) enjoy and have a wonderful morning-afternoon-evening, whatever it happens to be for them. And I don't own the Elder Scrolls - much as I might want to! All the best!

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Aine dropped into a roll and felt the air of it ruffle her hair. Terror pooled into her belly and the abruptness of all of this had her reeling. She felt the fletching of the arrow she still grasped tickle her fingers and she snapped into a crouch, firing. The arrow sank into Tsun's shoulder and he grunted, charging at her. She yanked a knife free and slashed across his hamstring when she rolled away from him a second time. Her only _slight_ advantage here was that she was smaller and much faster than him and she exploited that to its fullest. She debated briefly going for the bridge, but she kept hearing that word 'perilous' and wasn't sure she trusted anything here anymore.

Tsun bore down on her again in the short time these thoughts ran through her head and she ducked away. This time the axe caught one arm, just barely, and though she felt the sting of the bladed tip, the damage to her armor was what made her angry. She shoved it aside, knowing it would just make her sloppy, and flung the knife at him. He dodged and so did she, darting behind him and leaping onto his back. She managed to slip the bow over his head and get the handle against his neck. His arms flailed back at her and the axe thudded to the ground rather satisfyingly. Aine refused to be flung off, instead pulling her weight back and choking the Nord with all the strength she could muster. He wheezed, yanking at the bow himself, but it was no use: she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Tsun's knees gave out and he fell to the ground, gasping and choking and Aine merely pulled more firmly until his hand tapped at hers. She blinked at the back of his head, not expecting this and then recalled the whole 'warrior's test' speech. She released her hold and drew the bow off of him. He stayed crouched on his heels while she stepped back and strung an arrow just in case. It took a moment for him to catch his breath and he used the battle axe to get to his feet. The blade of it stayed against the ground and he leaned on the handle, smiling at her when she tensed. He looked exhilarated rather than pissed off and she felt herself relax some.

"Swift and cunning, I commend you," His voice was hoarse and he waved one hand to his bridge, "You may pass, dragon blood, you have proven yourself worthy."

Aine slowly replaced the arrow and slung her bow back over her head. She gave him a nod and started over the bridge. The ravine was so deep the bottom was lost in darkness, but she could hear the rush of water far below. The bones she walked across were smooth, worn by thousands of feet, and the Hall loomed above her, larger than ever when she stood before it. The bowls flickered and flamed in that same gentle breeze and she started up the steps cautiously, mindful of more tricks. The approach sloped gradually; landings broke up everything, meaning she only climbed four steps at a time. The large doors were beautifully carved and the handles made from the same smooth white bone as the bridge. She took what was supposed to be a steadying breath and pushed on the handle.

It opened quite easily, though she could feel the weight, and a wave of heat greeted her. The Hall smelled of roast pig and brown ale and she stepped inside, astounded by its size. The ceiling soared above her, supported by huge carved pillars, and the flagstones were smooth and worn in the same fashion as the bridge. She stood on a small raised dais and the hum of conversation lessened a bit as she made her way down the step. Two huge tables dominated the center of this room, though the enormous spit where the pigs were roasting over open flames commanded one's attention. The tables were laden with any dish one could want and through a room to the right, Aine spotted huge kegs that explained the ale smell. Several people were seated on the long benches and a tall, powerfully built warrior stood from his place near the head of the far table. He started her way and Aine almost took her bow up again, but he was smiling, his dark eyes glittering with excitement.

"Welcome, Dragonborn," His deep voice boomed and Aine had to tip her head to look up at him. He was taller than some Orcs she knew and his blond hair gleamed in the fires' flickering light. His handsome face was familiar and then she caught sight of an axe handle over one shoulder and it dawned on her just who he was.

The resemblance to the statues in Solitude was remarkable and it didn't strike her at all odd that she only recognized the Nordic hero Ysgramor from his weapon Wuuthrad. Seamus had loved making jokes about just why it was that Ysgramor had had a special relationship with a long handled weapon… The thought hurt and she shook it away, giving the Nord a slight bow.

"My thanks."

"Our Hall has stood empty since Alduin set his snare for the souls of our dead. We have heeded Shor's command, sheathed our blades, and not tempted the vale's mist. But now, but now, three warriors await your command to loose our fury against this perilous foe. Gormlaith the Fearless, glad-hearted in battle, Hakon the Valiant, heavy-handed warrior, and Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim."

The words echoed in the Hall and he waved one huge hand. Behind him the three materialized and Aine felt smaller still. Gormlaith, tall and fair haired, grinned widely and her eyes blazed with a fierce light. Hakon, sporting an eye patch stamped with what had to be his family's heraldry, was more subdued, nodding to her and giving the impression he was ready for just about anything life threw at him; and Felldir, his grey beard combed and trimmed perfectly, studied her with such a speculative look that she felt completely exposed.

"At last! At long last, Alduin's doom will be ours to seal," Gormlaith laughed in a premature bloodthirsty way and Aine knew this woman would have driven her crazy had they known each other in actual life, "Speak the words, Dragonborn, and we will hasten forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks."

"Hold, comrades, we must counsel before blindly charging into battle. Alduin's mist is more than a mere snare. The shadowy gloom serves as his shield and cloak. We must join our voices to dispel it and bring him to us."

Aine recognized the intelligence of this plan and she nodded her head, seeing Hakon do the same.

"Felldir speaks wisdom, as ever. The World-Eater coward fears you, Dragonborn. You speak to his doom. We must drive away the mist, together, and then can we engage our black-winged foe in desperate battle."

"To battle, friends!" Gormlaith cried, lifting her sword high and looking even more 'fearless', though Aine would dub it crazy instead, "The fields will echo with the clamor of war, our wills undaunted!"

She ran for the door, ignoring Hakon's suggestions of pacing herself as he followed on her heels. Aine felt Felldir move close to her and she glanced up into those ancient eyes, feeling some of her tension release as she thought of Paarthurnax.

"Eager fearless warrior, isn't she?"

"Gormlaith has ever reached for her blade first and used her voice second, it is true," He even smiled a bit, though his eyes did indeed stray grim, "Yet she will heed your command Dragonborn."

It wouldn't help her cause to tell him not to call her that - it wouldn't help anyone's cause - so she swallowed her distaste and gave him a nod. They followed Hakon and Gormlaith out the door and found them already across the bridge. The mist still moved in that strange wave-like fashion and Aine stared at it for a moment before she realized all three of these warriors were looking at her with those same expressions.

"All right, I agree with Felldir, we need to get rid of this fog. It won't do any good, charging in and teasing Alduin, he'll just pick us off one by one and that will be that. Can you tell me what the ground is like in the valley, under the mist? Is there high ground we can use?"

"Yes, Dragonborn, there are knolls not far from here that would stand level with the worm's back."

Aine gave Hakon a nod and chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered their plan of attack here. She had wanted to reenact their first battle against Alduin, Hakon and Gormlaith's trick with distraction and an aerial attack had been very effective. And Hakon seemed to recognized her desire there. Felldir would have to be protected, but she wasn't about to start instructing him on where to stand, he knew well enough what to do.

"I'll use Dragonrend when I can to keep him on the ground and we'll have to keep up attacks from either above or behind him. His fire breath is - unpleasant."

"We will not fail you, Dragonborn. Let us end this creature!"

Aine almost winced at the volume of Gormlaith's voice and then took her bow in hand and gave Felldir another nod. The old sorcerer stood forward and even Gormlaith seemed to settle as the atmosphere thickened. Tsun suddenly materialized at Aine's other side and she was pleased he looked none-the-worse-for-wear after her attack; he'd probably prove to be useful here.

Felldir lifted his hand and when it dropped, the four of them Shouted. The mist seemed to tremble in the power of the Clear Skies Shout and then it slowly crept back, revealing the stretch of beautiful green valley, the river sparkling in the starlight. Aine spotted the knolls Hakon had mentioned not far from where they stood and they looked perfect for her current plan. Gormlaith and Hakon started forward and Aine stepped after them. They were probably fifteen or twenty feet from the bridge when the screech rent the quiet night. A huge shadow swooped across the sky toward them and Aine froze for a moment at what she was seeing.

"Back!" She snapped, quickly backpedaling as Gormlaith and Hakon followed, "Back, get back!"

They ran back to the safety of the bridge, that mist following at their heels. Alduin didn't move to attack other than to cover the valley with his snare again. He roared a second time, turned sharply overhead and flew back across to the other side of the valley. Aine swore under her breath and felt her heart hammer in her chest. How the hell were they supposed to do this?

"Again," Felldir's voice was calm and stern, "We will clear the skies again and again until he has no choice but to attack."

"Not precisely what I was thinking, but I don't think _I_ have a choice," Aine spoke drily and then waved for the other two to step up again, "He's right, let's go."

This time, Tsun stood back and the skies cleared as before. Alduin didn't give them a chance to move forward. He flew toward them, drawing the mist like a blanket, and he sent a gout of flames down at them. Aine dove aside, nearly colliding with Tsun again. Felldir was out of the flames' path and Gormlaith and Hakon dove to the opposite side.

"Again!"

Aine didn't need to motion to the others after the sorcerer's call. The Shouts were pulling at her strength, but Alduin had had enough. He again soared to them, without the mist, and Aine swore. She only debated for a second before darting across the valley. She heard Gormlaith's battle-cry and Hakon's heavy steps and she rolled across the wet grass when another burst of flames came at them. Springing back to her feet, she got as close as she could to the knolls and then Shouted. Dragonrend caught Alduin in the belly and he tumbled to the ground. Hakon was there, yanking Aine behind him and serving as the distraction as Gormlaith was a mere shadow on the knoll. The Nord leapt onto Alduin's back, sinking her blade deep into one shoulder. The dragon screeched and reared back, allowing Aine to send two poisoned arrows into his sinewy neck. Gormlaith jumped clear and rolled across the ground, all of them scattering in different directions when Alduin spouted fire once more.

Felldir's lightning flew overhead, catching the dragon in the face and Aine Shouted when Alduin rose up several feet from the valley grasses. He fell back and spun on her with a rapidity that left her terrified. He darted forward and she Shouted again, sending an array of flames at him. He screeched in protest, jerking his head back and this time it was Tsun that jumped at him. The Nord somehow held tight with his legs, swinging his axe again and again at Alduin's neck. Blood flew up into the sky and Alduin snapped his head back, sending Tsun tumbling to the ground. One massive foot slammed down near the Nord, missing him by inches, and Aine sent more flames at the beast.

She was weakening, but it appeared Alduin was, too. He moved toward her and seemed unsteady. His neck bled heavily and the horns about his fierce yellow eyes were smoking from her attacks. She shot him again, this time hitting him just below the eye and he reared again. Hakon was with her and they both ran forward. Hakon managed to sink his blade deep and he kept running, opening a severe wound in the dragon's belly and flooding the grass with hot blood. Aine tried the same tactic, but her little axe wasn't nearly strong enough to manage and she hacked at him as Felldir's spells made the air around her crackle and burn.

Alduin's roar was weak and he attempted escape again, gaining at least twenty or twenty-five feet. Aine Shouted without thinking and the dragon crashed down practically on top of her. She dropped into a crouch and covered her head with both arms. Her bow was knocked aside and one of the toes of Alduin's front foot hit her in the back, sending her sprawling to the ground. The pain made her cry out and she felt the tension in the toe when it stayed pressed against her. For one terrifying moment, she wasn't sure she could move and she fought hard, heaving herself upright and gasping at the intensity when the claw fell away from her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know how bad the damage was there and she got to her feet, moving gingerly. She could hear the chorus of her title and she stumbled a bit as she picked up her bow.

"Here," The word came out as a hoarse whisper and she tried again, "Here, I'm here!"

Alduin's breath rattled in her ear and Gormlaith, blond hair singed in places and face bloody, grinned widely as she presented the hilt of her sword to Aine. Felldir was untouched, his calm presence a very welcome thing. Hakon's left arm was badly burned and he had a gash above his eye patch that coated that side of his face bright red while Tsun was good to go, though covered with Alduin's blood from his attack. Aine looked at the runed hilt of Gormlaith's sword and then up into the woman's fierce eyes, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do with a sword that was over half her height. Her back hurt, she felt incredibly weak, and she still wasn't sure she wanted to know what that claw had done to her.

"What-"

"The honor of dispatching the World-Eater belongs to the Dragonborn," Felldir's voice was soft and very serious, "It is your task."

Aine was done with Alduin, she really didn't give a damn who finished him off, but that rattle was getting to her. She felt an unfamiliar jab of guilt. Her expertise lay in stealth, lifting trinkets from belts, counters, homes; it was in the art of sleight of hand, picking a target that wouldn't miss a pouch of ten sovereigns. Killing wasn't part of who she was and she hated herself as she took that hilt in both hands, walked to Alduin's head, and shoved the blade down into the yellow eye. The body spasmed once and Aine had to lean against the hilt for a moment to wait for her strength to return. She knew she'd never manage to yank that weapon free and she faced the ancient warriors again.

"A mighty deed!" Tsun shouted, "Sovngarde is cleansed of the snare! This song shall ring in Shor's Hall forever. But your fate is elsewhere now. When you complete your days perhaps I shall have the honor of welcoming you again, in friendship, and joining you in blessed feasting!"

"All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her in great praise!"

The chorus of voices was loud and Aine glanced at the Hall to see that Ysgramor and a horde of others stood on the bridge and steps leading to the massive building. She blinked, wanting nothing more than to be away from here, back in the real world, hidden away in the shadows to which she knew now she could never return. Another little piece of her withered into hate - or just plain died - and she lifted one hand with another gasp of pain. Felldir cast a spell over her that returned a little bit of her strength and eased some of the fire in her back, and she gave him a smile.

"Return to Nirn, my lady, with this boon from my lord Shor; a Shout to bring one of the heroes of old from Sovngarde in an hour of need," Tsun Shouted the words into the bloody grass and Aine quickly dropped one end of her bow to the ground for support when the words imparted their power, "Hail the Dragonborn!"


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:** The good Lord have mercy, I have been SO bad at this this time around! Again - and a million times over - my thanks to those loyal (and it goes without saying VERY patient) readers that have stuck with me throughout the process, and I hope to have the conclusion soon. Though I am having trouble finishing this one, for some weird reason. I thought I had the ending in my head and then of course the story took on a life of its own and now I'm not sure where it's leading. But it should at the very least be interesting! Take care, enjoy the sunshine, and I hope to talk to you all again very soon!

* * *

The sentiment was repeated and then everything blurred around her. Aine closed her eyes, the dizziness not helping when she was already so unsteady, and she allowed her body to sink into a crouch. A moment later and the rush stopped and a familiar voice spoke.

"So it is done. The Eldest is no more, the one who came before and always was. Alduin dilon."

Aine started up with a gasp and she stumbled, grateful she hadn't put the bow away. Paarthurnax perched, gargoyle-like as ever, at the top of his word wall. She was close to the base of this and she met the dragon's sorrowful gaze, seeing her own guilt and loss mirrored there. It took her a moment to realize that the surrounding peaks were full of dragons, each one glinting a different color in the moonlight. Strangely, the moon threw her more than the sight of so many of the creatures. She had lost all concept of time. When Odahviing had dropped her at Skuldafn the sun was high and of course there was Sovngarde with its beautiful night lights, and now back to Skyrim where the moon greeted her in all its golden glory.

"Paarthurnax," She said quietly and moved forward to sink down on her little stone step. One hand pressed to her back where she could feel the stickiness of fresh blood and the jagged tear in her leather armor. It burned dully and she winced as her fingers worked up to the beginning of the tear. It was roughly ten inches long and though it bled freely and she was definitely weakened, she held out hope that the leather had prevented anything vital from being exposed. Her eyes found the dragon's again as he stepped down in front of her and lowered his head to her level, his gaze flickering with pity, "Yes, it's done."

"And you are left standing. Alduin was the crown of our father Akatosh's creation."

"I'm sorry," Aine murmured and found she actually was, her dragon friend seemed so despondent. She reached with one hand and he nudge her palm, resting his chin on the snow near her feet, "But it was him or me. And if he had won-"

"Destruction, yes. Krosis. You did what was necessary. Alduin flew far from our path in his pahlok, arrogance. Yet I cannot celebrate his fall. Zu'u tiiraaz ohst ok mah. Yes, my brother once. This world will never be the same," He pressed against her again and blinked his eyes, "And so your destiny is fulfilled, which you at one time were contemptuous of."

It was Aine's turn for a blink. Contemptuous? She hadn't welcomed any of this with open arms, true, and she supposed she could accept that Paarthurnax had read between the lines of what she had said to him what seemed like years ago. She tried to straighten and felt the heat intensify in her back.

"Fair enough. I certainly wasn't a willing recipient of the power and title, but when I make up my mind to finish something, I finish it. Not unlike you and your brother, I'm thinking?"

He tipped his chin against the snow in agreement and silence fell save for the soft rustling of the dragons around them. Aine was just gathering her strength to stand again when Paarthurnax spoke.

"And this world will continue to exist. Grik los lein. As you once told me, the next world will have to take care of itself. Ful nii los. Not even I can see past Time's ending and we must do the best we can with this life, world."

"Right," She agreed and taking a deep breath hurt. She leaned forward, hoping to ease the discomfort and Paarthurnax was closer still, "And that means I can't regret that Alduin's dead. I can feel sorry that it happened the way it did, I actually really hate that it came to this, but like you said, he chose to leave your path and suffered the consequences. I just… I just don't like this killing business."

"No, it is not for you," His voice had dropped in volume as well and everything else seemed forgotten, "Alduin wahlaan daanii. Yet I would not have assisted you, dovah, if I believed otherwise. Perhaps now you have an insight to forces that shape the vennesetiid - Time's currents; perhaps now you will begin to see this world as a dovah. Krosis, I forget myself. So los mid fahdon. Melancholy is an easy trap for me. Yours was sahrot krongrah - mighty victory indeed. It will echo through all ages of this world for those who have eyes to view it. Savor this, my dovah, it is not the last of what you write upon the currents of Time."

Aine chuckled and hissed at the new onslaught.

"I don't know, Paarthurnax, if I don't get checked out it might be," She reached out again and he obliged, pressing his nose to her palm. The scales were smooth and cool in the night air and she leaned forward, ignoring the pain, and pressed her forehead to his snout. His body went completely still and she was rather pleased with herself for surprising him, "You were wonderful, a great friend, and I get the feeling this might be the last time I can speak to you like this. So I wanted to say thank you. I really wish you all the rest and peace this world can give you, Paarthurnax, you've earned it."

Paarthurnax very gently raised his chin to nudge her head. It was affectionate and almost playful and she lifted herself to look in his eyes.

"And you as well, my little dovah," He blinked at her and then spread his wings and lifted silently from the ground. His voice boomed around as the other dragons took their cue from him and rose into the sky as well. They circled the summit and one by one flew off into the night sky, "Goraan! I feel younger than I have in many ages! Many of the dovahhe scatter across Keizaal and without Alduin's lordship, they may bow to the vahzen - the rightness of my Thu'um! And willing or not, they will hear it! Farewell, dovahkiin!"

Paarthurnax made two rounds of the mountain and then wheeled away and disappeared with the rest. Aine had stood during some point of his speech and she felt her sadness sharpen with the pain when the dragon was lost to her. She gave a little sigh and turned to head down to Hrothgar when another of the beasts landed in front of her. For one wild moment she thought it was Alduin and she fumbled for an arrow when he spoke to her.

"Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein. I wish the old one luck with his - quest - but I do doubt many will exchange Alduin's lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax and his Way of the Voice," Odahviing would have shrugged if it was possible for a dragon to do so, his look told Aine that much. She pushed the arrow back into the quiver and rested on her bow again, "As for me, I am yours should you need assistance. You have proven yourself worthy twice over. Thuri, dovahkiin. I bow to your power, to your Thu'um. Zu'u Odahviing. Call my name and I will come - if I can."

Aine caught that same mischievous lilt she had at Dragonsreach as Odahviing flew off and of course that conjured everything else. Seamus and his affectionate pet-names and crooked grin, Ralof with his tender embrace and passionate kisses; the fact that she still had to deal with Percival and Stychus… And the Stormcloak-Empire fiasco if she was entirely honest. She had - yes, reluctantly - accepted her title of Dragonborn and she was a fool if she thought for a moment that she could fade to the background _now_. She shook her head and started down the path, making it halfway before she realized the skies were cleared and she didn't have to use her Shout. Her blood loss was probably more severe than she originally believed and this was a testament to it. She should have realized right away and the fact that she didn't kind of scared her.

She made it to the rear courtyard of Hrothgar before she collapsed to her knees and just couldn't go any farther. She was in the midst of a fierce debate with herself about calling for help when she saw the dim grey shapes move toward her. It was Arngeir with one of his brothers and they helped her to her feet and half-carried her into the warm, rich smelling rooms of the fortress. She was dimly aware of being laid face-down on the fur rug in Arngeir's office and she felt the pull of her split-apart breastplate being tugged from her back.

The pain increased and she moaned quietly as one of the Greybeards began cleaning the wound. Her body stiffened and she was half off the floor when a cool, steel-like hand clamped on the back of her neck and pushed her back down. The tearing of her shirt was strangely loud in her ears and she struggled against that grip before realizing how useless it was. She squirmed instead with each gentle poke and prod against the wound and didn't realize Arngeir asked her a question until he repeated it at least twice.

"What?"

"Was this from Alduin?"

"His - ah! - his front claw. Shit! Would you-"

"Shh, Ysmir, we are almost done. The poison has had a chance to get into your blood and we must make sure that we can clean the wound thoroughly before we give you any potions."

Aine stiffened, the words not really conducive to remaining still and calm, but Arngeir's grip was so strong and she was caught. She didn't have any choice but to lay there and let them work. When the Greybeards finally moved back from her, her face was wet with tears of pain and frustration. She would have reached up to knock them aside, but couldn't manage. And then she felt more vulnerable than ever when Arngeir himself wiped her cheeks with a handkerchief and settled beside her. Aine pressed her eyes closed and took a breath. It still hurt, but she felt the cool relief of whatever tincture was used. She was able to take the potion he handed her without embarrassing herself and she grimaced at the taste as Arngeir started in.

"You were successful."

He wasn't asking and Aine opened her eyes to look up at him. His face was composed as ever though there was an underlying elation that could never be wholly concealed.

"I was. Skyrim - Tamriel - is safe… for now," She frowned as a thought hit her, "I think. Alduin was killed, but I never absorbed the soul. Is that strange? Or is it different because we were in Sovngarde and not actual… life?"

"I have never heard it put in such a way," Arngeir tipped his head and one hand stroked idly through his beard, "But I suppose you could be right, Ysmir. Sovngarde is the afterlife and not many mortals are granted the privilege of a foretaste. Alduin being killed there would be a different situation than if he were killed here. There was nothing? Not even a beginning of the soul transfer?"

Aine inhaled again and felt the tightness of her wound, but she went on with the story of Alduin's death, downplaying her part and emphasizing the others'. Which - as far as she was concerned - was more than warranted. Arngeir listened raptly and it wasn't until she had eased into a sitting position and caught a glimpse of the rest of the room that she realized the other Greybeards were grouped around the beautiful desk and listening just as intently. Her back throbbed, but she wasn't about to linger here for the rest of the night. She wanted Seamus and Ralof and it didn't matter that she didn't have Lettie this time; she would find a mount in Ivarstead. Or just take one and worry about the cost later… or not.

"And you truly think he's gone?"

It was more of a demand than a question and Arngeir sat back on his heels.

"I truly cannot answer you, Ysmir. Dragons are not normal, mortal creatures and Alduin is - was - unique even among his own kind. He may very well be permitted to return at the end of time to fulfill his own destiny as the World-Eater and that is for the gods to decide; not you or me. You are finished with your part."

"For now."

Arngeir ignored the animosity in her words, but inclined his head.

"You have shown yourself mighty indeed, in both Voice and action. In the act of defeating Alduin, you showed a mastery of the most dreadful weapons in this life. It is now up to you what you will do with your power. Will you be a hero and allow your name to be remembered fondly in song and tale throughout the ages? Or will it become a curse? And still there is a possibility that you will simply fade from memory, remembered as a woman who gave what she had to end a tyrant and then disappeared from the forefront of human knowledge," Arngeir leveled his gaze on her when her lips opened to say that _that_ was her particular preference, no matter how damned far-fetched it was, and she pressed them into a line when he continued, "Let the Way of the Voice be your guide, Ysmir, and welcome the path of wisdom that opens to you. Breathe and focus; your future lies before you."

"My future," Aine repeated the words rather bitterly and couldn't suppress the moan of pain when she stood. It took a moment to gather her strength and she could feel the blood drain from her face. She caught her torn shirt more firmly against her chest and motioned for her breastplate. Arngeir looked at her wordlessly for a beat and then handed the clean cotton shirt to her before turning over the armor. She hissed in pain and managed the shirt and buckles without too much trouble. The Greybeard's disapproval didn't mean much to her at this point in time, "Rife with meetings, strategy talks, and endless frustration. My thanks for your help, all of you, and I'm sure we will speak soon… Part of the strategy, right?"

"You should not-"

"No, I have to, so don't bother," Aine tried to straighten her shoulders and couldn't, but she refused to accept defeat and arched her brows at him, "Anything else?"

"Call on the Greybeards when you must, Ysmir, and we will answer. If you will not listen to reason and wait until your wounds have set, then we will send our tinctures with you as well as our blessings," Arngeir gave her a bow as one of the others stepped forward and handed her a satchel that clinked with bottles, "Until we meet again… Dragonborn."

* * *

Aine ended up 'borrowing' a mount from the inn. She allowed her guilt to leave a note on the stable door and she also left a portion of sovereigns just in case the horse was not returned. It was a very spirited stallion that neighed and snorted at her the moment she crept into the stables and she liked his energy; she _needed_ his energy. Her back was not 'set' and it hurt with each step down the path from Hrothgar. She still had no idea what time it was, but when Whiterun came into view the eastern sky almost looked a bit lighter. She slipped from the stallion's saddle and led him into the stables. The horse-master was absent, not surprising at an early hour, and she unbuckled the saddle and quickly brushed the horse down, tossing him a scoop of oats.

As soon as the task was finished, Aine slipped into the city and headed for Dragonsreach. The streets were quiet and deserted, even the patrols were missing from this part of town, and she climbed the steps to the palace as the sky continued with its almost-brightness. Her skin pricked a bit at the fact that the doors weren't guarded, but she didn't think too much of it and pushed the huge things open herself. The foyer was dark save a few torches closer to the steps leading to the dragon trap and Farengar's office, and she started into the depths slowly.

The movement behind her was quiet and too late, she realized something was _very_ wrong. She had just turned, one hand reaching for a knife, and then something crashed against her skull and everything disappeared into a murky black.

She came to slowly, very slowly, the black fading into an ugly brown at the edges of her eyes. Her head throbbed and her back pained her more than ever, and she reached with one hand and found her wrists bound tightly. She tried again and heard a horrifyingly familiar laugh. Her back went stiff with fury and she shoved that brown-black from her vision, needing her full attention for whatever came next. Her eyes focused on the scene in front of her and she struggled until she couldn't stand the pain; which wasn't long.

Seamus, stripped of armor and his shirt, was lashed to one of the huge pillars in the foyer of Dragonsreach, and an Imperial guard stood close. He held a whip in one hand and Seamus' pale brown eyes were fixed on Aine. He shook his head when their gazes locked and Aine pulled harshly at her bound wrists, shoving the pain to the back of her head.

"Now, now, little Bird, don't get too excited," Stychus crouched in front of her and she strained even more. Her mouth opened to yell at him and the cloth of the gag fell in against her tongue. She tried to spit it out and twisted her hands until she couldn't feel her fingers anymore; it was no use. The captain smiled at her and all rational thought was very quickly disappearing, "You can't be surprised I'd take the precaution, little Bird. It was a clever trick, but like I said, your footing was bound to slip. I think we should pick up where we left off last time. I know the Nord has a more… shall we say physical presence in your life now, right? Right. But even I can see that is not enough and I think if I want to live up to your idea of sadism, your Seamus has to suffer. Watch carefully and remember," He bent close, his lips practically touching her ear, "This is all on you."

The Imperial guard unfurled the whip and began striking Seamus. Aine screamed against the gag, pulling harder than ever and causing the ties to cut into her wrists so badly she felt the warmth of fresh blood. Seamus kept quiet at first, but when the lashes counted thirteen, he couldn't help but cry out and Aine felt each one through her entire being. Her rage was such that the only things she could focus on were her friend's pain and the fact that Stychus watched her like a hawk. She felt tears against her cheeks and she kept repeating 'stop', not sure what good it would do her. She had nothing to trade for Seamus' life, but she just couldn't take it. Seamus seemed to feel what she was thinking and his eyes met hers, making it that much worse. Between exclamations of anguish, he implored her not to act and she couldn't promise him that. It had nothing to do with the fact that she couldn't speak; she truly couldn't promise him. It was not in her nature.

Stychus had turned to Seamus when he spoke to her and she hardly registered the captain anymore. She kept trying to spit out the gag and between her struggles and the saliva, it loosened enough that she could push it from her mouth. It fell down against her chin where it stuck and she didn't yell at Stychus. Her sole focus was Seamus Hady and stopping the assault against him. The count was now at twenty-six and she couldn't do it, she couldn't do it.

"Stop!" She cried hoarsely and felt more than saw Stychus turn to her. He started in her direction and she felt the give of her ties now, too. She pulled harshly, not feeling the raw and broken skin and got one hand free. She had been bound with both wrists tied together, her arms hugging the pillar like Seamus was, and she darted toward him, ignoring Stychus completely, "Stop, enough! Take me instead-"

"Anni-"

"No, take me," Her voice was frantic at the sound of her nickname and she wrenched herself from Stychus' grip, crouching beside Seamus, "Let him go. Take me, take me."

She reached with one hand to touch Seamus' cheek and the whip whistled down, hitting her in the head, and she fell against the pillar. Seamus called the Imperial every name in the book and the lashes hit Aine again, this time catching her left arm and shoulder and she cried out. He hit her a third time and Aine grabbed the lashes before he could yank them away. Her hands slipped in Seamus' blood, but she let the ends wrap around her fingers and held tight, her temper heating rapidly. Stychus was there at her shoulder and she pulled hard on the whip, yanking it from the Imperial and turning on the captain. He was ready for her and threw one arm up, the whip circling him without causing injury and he pulled himself. Aine was ready for this and she caught herself in a tug-of-war with the damned thing, wanting nothing more than to tear out the captain's grey eyes.

"Lousy piece of shit!" She spat at him and the Imperial was trying to slip another gag over her mouth. She ducked her head and heard Seamus' voice imploring her to remember what she could use. It didn't make any sense to her and she refused to let go of the whip while she still tried to keep from being bound again, "Sick bastard! Let go!"

"Her mouth, damn it! Cover her mouth!"

Oddly, it was Stychus' vehemence that made her realize what Seamus was talking about and her sudden stillness confused both the captain and his man. The Imperial soldier looked uncertainly at his superior and before Stychus could speak, Aine did. She shouted Odahviing's name, hearing the echoes bounce around the hall.

Stychus' face twisted with rage and he yarded on the whip, pulling it from Aine's fingers so hard she worried he actually broke a couple of the fingers. The Imperial stepped back and Stychus turned his attention to Seamus. Aine threw herself forward, covering her friend, and cried out at the heavy-handed swings against her already wounded back. Stychus kept going, oblivious to Seamus' protests and Aine's cries.

"Little bitch! You've stood in my way the last time!"

A sudden scuffle sounded at the base of the steps to the dragon trap and Stychus grunted. Aine had steeled herself for the next blow and sighed when nothing came. She shoved the pain away and slipped to the ground beside Seamus, her fingers already working at the ties. He watched her with tormented eyes and she shook her head when he opened his mouth.

"No, Seamus, no," She whispered, not caring why Stychus or the Imperial didn't attack her again, "I'm not losing or leaving you. I can't, I… I can't, don't tell me to."

"Anni…"

She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, surprising even herself, and then went back to freeing his wrists. He sagged against the pillar, looking at her in wonder at her open affection. She brushed it aside and got to her feet with a moan, finally turning to see who had saved them.

Once again, Percival Coyne pinned the captain to the floor and the Imperial soldier had a knife to Percival's throat. His pale eyes were on Aine and Seamus and he wasn't struggling, nor was he letting go of the captain. For a moment, all of them simply stared at one another and then the roar of the dragon could be heard.

"Let him go," Aine said hoarsely and the Imperial's eyes found hers.

"Kill him," Stychus hissed and Percival was able to slam his head into the stone beneath him, "End it, cut him!"

"This is it, soldier," Aine offered and couldn't start forward right now without collapsing, "That roar is from a dragon I summoned. He will destroy everything in his path until he sees me. Do you really want to risk that for a fleeting victory? And trust me, it will be fleeting. If you kill Coyne, we kill you and then your captain. Make your choice."

"He'll kill me anyway."

The Imperial wasn't talking about Stychus and Seamus chuckled weakly behind Aine. He hadn't moved from the pillar and he looked white and strained.

"You're right, but it won't be for a while."

The sound of cries from outside the doors echoed now and Aine saw the Imperial's eyes flick in that direction.

"Wherever your men were, they'll wish they'd stayed hidden now. Odahviing's here because I called and I'm the only one that can stop him. Decide."

Aine took a half-step forward and paused when the guard pressed the blade to Percival's throat. Stychus implored his man to end it once more and Seamus' voice, sounding so normal, made Aine stop completely and look at him. He tried to stand and couldn't manage, sinking back to his heels and almost falling onto his butt.

"Remember that tomb with Frey, Anni? It was kind of something what those draugr did, huh?"

"Now, you bloody fool, now!"

Stychus was trying to heave Percival off of him and Aine faced the trio and Shouted.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N:** Well look here, in the same month! I hope everyone enjoys and I wish you all a happy - and safe - Independence Day!

* * *

All three of them flew from her and she stumbled toward the captain who was too quick for his own good. He managed to keep hold of the whip and swung it at her as she charged forward. She mimicked his earlier trick and let it wrap harmlessly around one arm before she yanked at it. Another tug-of-war ensued and Stychus was so much stronger than she was. She was pulled forward too easily and while Percival tussled with the Imperial and Seamus said her name, she threw a punch. The captain wasn't expecting this and she caught him square in the jaw, sending him reeling back with a curse. The whip went slack in his hand and she yanked it away, throwing it toward Seamus.

Stychus recovered in a blink and drew back his hand to return her punch when she tackled him. They fell against the flagstones and rolled into one of the benches. Aine landed on top of him, feeling for a knife in her belt before she remembered that she wasn't even wearing her trusty breastplate; and she threw another punch, drawing a gout of blood from his nose. Stychus grabbed her arms and threw her aside and she couldn't suppress the cry when she landed full on her back. She couldn't move, the pain was so debilitating, and Stychus knelt over her. He had the knife she wanted and he tipped it so the light gleamed on the edge while he grinned nastily at her. She put up her hands and he fisted his own into her hair and bounced her head off the floor. She let out a groan and saw stars which worked in his favor. The bite of the blade pressed against her neck and he leaned close. His breath smelled like lemons and she knew she would never again be able to stand that scent if she lived through this.

"I was hoping to have you to myself for _hours_ , little Bird. You can't begin to imagine the things I could make you say and do, but I guess this will have to suffice," He drew the blade up against her cheek, drawing blood and making her gasp, "And I can make it work."

"You're finished," She whispered and had never felt more done. Her body was broken and bested, but Odahviing was clearly doing his part, considering the screams that came from the closed doors, "You and the Empire. We had a deal, Stychus, Tullius and I. You lousy fool, you have no idea what you've done. If you truly think you can fall back on the protection of the City, you have more than a few surprises coming your way. Tullius and Ulfric agreed to a truce until we dealt with the dragons and argue all you want that we have. I'm guessing this coup came as soon as I disappeared over the horizon, right? And Balgruuf and his family - still alive or you're a damned idiot as well as a fool - will gladly tell the City that you flew in the face of that truce and screwed the Empire over. You are _finished_ , Captain Markos Stychus."

Stychus' handsome face twisted in a rage she hadn't yet seen and she didn't care. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow. Which never came. Instead Stychus stiffened and then his body spasmed and he fell against her. The added weight made her cry out again and she could see the hilt jutting from his back when she tried - ineffectively - to push him from her. The hilt looked so familiar and then she remembered Meara's hand closing around it after it had lodged in her own chest…

Her gasp was wild and desperate and she pushed more firmly at the captain's body. It was no use and Percival was suddenly there. He pulled the knife from the captain's back and rolled him off of her. Aine stayed as she was, trying to summon the strength to sit up, and couldn't manage. She met Percival's gaze and held out one hand. His pale eyes, dark and haunted, flickered and went blank and Aine wasn't sure what to say.

"I can't, please…?"

He helped her upright then and she saw Seamus where she had left him, whiter still, but very much alive. She let out a breath of relief and squeezed Percival's hand.

"Bird-"

"No, thanks, but no, not now."

She struggled onto her feet and Percival only helped after Seamus waved at him.

"What are you doing? You really should-"

"I need to stop Odahviing before he actually _does_ destroy us."

Aine heard the weakness in her voice and Percival didn't let her go. They made their way slowly to the large doors and he had to open them. Odahviing stood on the bridge to Dragonsreach, the edges of the stones rather crushed with his weight, and Aine had to shout at him a few times before he turned his head toward her. He started forward and she pulled from Percival's support just enough so the dragon wouldn't attack.

"Stop, you can stop," Her voice faded as she spoke to him and he cocked his head at her, coming closer and lowering his chin like Paarthurnax did. She felt the sting of loss again and she held up one hand. Waist-level was all she could manage, "You're amazing, Odahviing, but you can stop. It's done… again."

"Krosis, dov, but are you certain?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," She smiled at him and felt the blood start again from the knife wound to her cheek, "Go on, we'll manage."

Odahviing hesitated a moment and then inclined his head and spread his wings, flying west where the sky was still dark. The eastern sky, however, was streaked with orange and the faintest shades of pink and Aine let out a breath, struck at its beauty.

"It's over, Perce," She murmured and felt her legs grow weak, "It's finally over."

That brown-black she fought against when first dealing with Stychus was rearing its very ugly head and she let out another sigh. Percival said her last name and she heard a few - more welcome - voices join him as the flagstones rushed up at her. She was just about to hit - and then strong arms caught her and she knew no more.

* * *

Someone was caressing her hand and the strokes across the back hurt enough that she blinked her eyes open. She was laying on her stomach and everything was very fuzzy. Fingers stroked across her forehead then, brushing hair from her face, and her eyes finally found his gold-flecked blue.

"Hey, my girl."

"Ralof," She whispered and closed her eyes against the sting in her cut cheek. She nestled her head into the pillow and tightened her fingers around his, "Balgruuf and his family okay?"

"They are indeed. It was your… It was the bastard Stychus and a handful that caused the trouble," Ralof pressed her hand between his palms and she heard the shift of his feet against the base of whatever she was laying on, "The captain had his own entourage here in Whiterun, but it wasn't the force he was expecting. Half of them were so terrified that the dragons would attack Whiterun when you left that they deserted him and his only recourse was to attack you…"

His voice faltered and Aine hissed at the pressure on her hand. He immediately apologized and when Aine's gaze met his again, words failed him a second time. Her heart thudded in her chest and she tipped her head against the pillow, not dropping her eyes from his. He smiled faintly and reached with his free hand to brush her hair again, pressing his palm to that ear and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Ralof…"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It should have felt awkward; Aine wasn't able to lift her head much from the pillow, but she cared so much for him and he cared for her, and it didn't matter. He pulled back a moment and then tipped his lips to hers again and Aine sighed into his mouth, ignoring the pain and slanting her head a bit so he had better access. The hand against her head wandered down her arm and across her lower back. This kiss promised to deepen, but pain suddenly snapped through her and she hissed, drawing back. Her thoughts flew back to the foyer and Stychus…

Stychus with the knife, cutting her cheek and telling her he had hoped for hours with her; Stychus telling that soldier to end Percival, Stychus whipping Seamus…

Aine started up from the table or bed she was on and Ralof stood just as suddenly.

"Whoa, my girl, what-"

"Seamus," She gasped and ground her teeth at the pain that erupted in her torn back. Ralof pressed his hand to her shoulder and she would have shrugged him away if she could. Instead, she was practically upright before his words got through.

"He's fine, Aine, he's okay. My girl, lay back down. By the gods, you're undoing everything. Please, girl, lay down; Nan's going to kill me," He pushed gently at her shoulders, trying to force her back, "Come on, Aine-"

"I want Seamus and I won't be kept from him. Get off me, Ralof. I don't know who Nan is and I really don't give a damn. I want Seamus," Aine actually got off the table and it was a farther drop than she thought. She staggered and fell against him, too weak to stand and move on her own, and _hating_ the tears in her eyes, "Get out of my way, Ralof, I-"

"Shut up and listen to me, girl. Hady is okay and resting comfortably, are you going to accept this?"

"No, I need to see him."

Something died in Ralof's eyes and he nodded. In the next moment, Aine was cradled in his arms, and though one was pressed against the wounds of her back, she didn't protest. Instead, she tipped her head against his neck and shoulder and touched his cheek as he left her room and started down the hall. Seamus' room was two doors down and Aine exhaled when she saw her old friend. He was laying face-down on a tall bed like hers and his back was swathed with bandages. Ralof deposited her in the tall-legged chair that matched the bed and stepped back to the doorway.

Aine touched Seamus' damp forehead and traced the shape of his brow with one finger. He didn't stir and she took up his hand in both of hers, pressing her lips to his fingers. She rubbed his hand between hers, waiting for any signs of life, but not fully expecting them; and then one eye blinked open. She gasped in surprise and tipped forward, her hands tightening on his. She brushed his hair back again and then stroked her thumb against his forehead. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes before looking up at her.

"Hey, Anni."

"Hey," She returned, her voice shaking.

Seamus pressed his fingers against hers and his gaze was cloudy and rather dull with exhaustion. He turned his head a little and winced, and Aine stretched her free hand across his cheek.

"You're a silly little fool," He whispered and his eyes suddenly sparkled when she frowned at him, "Come on, little inferno. I can practically hear Blondie's frustrated thoughts."

Ralof snorted at the nickname and Aine glanced over her shoulder at him. The movement caused her to gasp and she felt Seamus' hold tighten. She gingerly turned back to him and smiled.

"I wanted to see for myself that you were okay," She murmured and stroked his cheek again. The fire in the hearth bathed the room in a cozy yellow glow and his pale brown eyes met hers. His lips tipped in a soft smile and Aine's heart swelled with affection and such relief that he was still with her. She lowered her head a bit and dropped her voice to a whisper; not because Ralof was listening, but because she was sure her voice would break and she didn't want it to be that obvious, "I'm sorry, Seamus, I'm so sorry. I should never have included you in all this. It wasn't-"

"Shh, Anni, shh," Seamus' eyes cleared and he squeezed her hand, "My little inferno, you didn't do anything to me. I told you you were stuck with me and everything that came after that is all on me. Don't you dare let that bastard's words get to you. You called him a sadist and bully, and you're absolutely right. He would have said anything to throw you and you shouldn't give him that power. Especially now."

Aine leaned forward, ignoring the pain, and kissed Seamus' cheek. She pressed her head to his and they remained still for a moment. He finally sighed and she pulled back a bit to meet his gaze again.

"You okay?"

"I'm tired and in pain, and I imagine you are, too," He leveled his eyes on her when she opened her mouth to argue, "No use, Aine, I know you better than anyone and you can't hide that from me. Go on, get back to bed."

"Here, girl," Ralof's voice was much closer and he dumped the bedding on the little couch in one corner before scooting it closer to Seamus' bed. He fixed up a nest for her with a quick efficiency that she knew Seamus would mock if he were himself and then turned his attention to her, "Can you stand?"

Aine pressed her free hand to the bed and slowly got to her feet. It hurt, but she leaned against it and nodded to Ralof. He moved the chair and then positioned the couch closer to the bed. Seamus reluctantly let her go and Ralof helped situate her. She sat on the soft cushions, stroking her fingers along the worn wool blanket.

"What's the deal with the tall beds?"

Ralof looked at the bed and tipped a smile at her while he fluffed one of the pillows and pushed the couch even closer to Seamus.

"Nan prefers them, says they're easier to work with."

"I'll have to meet her," She accepted his help to lay back down and he stroked one hand briefly across her hair. She wondered fleetingly how filthy it was right now and she closed her eyes, wanting that caress to continue. Instead he stepped back and looked between them, "Ralof-"

"Get some sleep, you two, you need it."

He gave Aine a last tender look and left the room, pulling the door just to behind him. Seamus' hand reached down and brushed along her arm until he found her fingers and he squeezed them.

"It'll pass, Anni, give him some time to figure this out and it'll pass."

"I…" Aine stopped and instead pressed his fingers to her lips. _I don't know if I can let it!_ "I know, Seamus, thanks. Get some sleep."


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N:** Okay, I know nothing in the world will excuse my nearly FIVE month absence from all you lovely people, so I'm not going to even try. And of course, my deepest and most sincere apologies to EVERYONE! In a very lame attempt to make it up to you, this is the first of two large updates that will finish off Aine Bird's drama. Hopefully you don't hate me so much that you've given up on me and - it goes without saying - please enjoy!

* * *

Aine had vivid nightmares that night. She kept finding herself in the mist, hearing the sound of wings overhead and faint Shouts that grew louder and louder. The whispers she'd heard when actually passing through it resounded in her nightmare. Meara's voice screaming for her help, Seamus groaning with pain and demanding she stop Stychus from cutting him, and Ralof… His alternated between tortured screams like Seamus' and accusations that she was two-faced and a liar, making him believe in something that never existed between them. She ended up curled in a ball on the damp grass, screaming that it stop, that she couldn't take it, she couldn't _take it…!_

"Anni? Anni!"

She started upright and cried out sharply at the pain. Her eyes roved the room frantically and it took at least three revolutions before she was certain she wasn't in Sovngarde. She trembled like a leaf and could feel the sweat chilling her skin. Her back protested fiercely, but she was already pretty much upright and she stayed poised like she was, still checking out the corners of the room where the shadows were deep thanks to the flickering fire. Fingers brushed her cheek and she jerked back in surprise.

"Hey, hey, my inferno," Seamus reached and stroked her face. His brown eyes were concerned and he winced when he lifted his head a little. His palm slipped down to rest against her neck and his fingers wove through her hair, "It's okay, it was a nightmare. You're safe. It's okay, really, it's okay."

She reached up and looped his wrist with her hand and pressed his palm more firmly to her. The tremors were lessening now, but she heard the shakiness in the sigh that escaped her. Seamus' thumb idly traced the line of her jaw and ran over the pulse that still thrummed strong. She sat in the sweet peace, letting it soothe her. The fire crackled and popped, loud in the quiet room, and Aine briefly wondered how long she'd been out. It was burning quite steadily and she knew Ralof, in his thoughtfulness, would have made sure it stayed warm for the two of them. Seamus' fingers pressed at the back of her neck and she looked up at him, another tremor rolling through her at the tenderness in that gaze.

"You okay, sweet?" He waited for her nod and then tipped his head against the pillow, his eyes leveling on her, "What's going on in that head of yours, inferno? Hurting or not, you should be much more relieved - and happy - that all this bullshit is done."

"Is it?" She returned and heard the hoarseness in her voice, "Really, Seamus, is it? I'm the Dragonborn, I helped end a threat that would have destroyed us all, and you really think I'm done with it? I can practically hear Tullius and Ulfric circling the town."

He chuckled and a hiss escaped him. Aine started to get to her feet, but he didn't let her go and he shook his head. She settled again and leaned forward, the couch putting the edge of the bed a few inches under her chin. The pain actually eased a bit in this position and she laid one arm flat along the mattress, resting her chin on her fingers and very mindful of the bandage around her wrist. Seamus opened his eyes and met hers, his hand resting more comfortably on her shoulder now.

"I suppose you have a point. I hadn't ever really given that a thought," He arched his brows, "Think you can browbeat them into calling this stupid war a draw and end all of that, too?"

Aine smiled faintly and tipped her head against his arm. His eyes flicked a bit, but he didn't say anything, that was left to her.

"I certainly plan on giving them both all the trouble I can manage. Maybe I can get them so pissed off with me, they kick me out Skyrim, and I'll follow through with our original scheme and escape to Cyrodiil."

"I'm pretty sure Blondie will have a few things to say about that," He frowned at her when she tipped her head more fully against him and dropped her gaze, "Uh oh, that's not good. Come on, Anni, confess. What's going on up there, really?"

Aine bit her lip and kept her face down. His words about knowing her better than anyone kept ringing through her head, mostly because they were absolutely true. Her heart lurched and twisted in her chest and she didn't know how to answer him. If she hinted at any of her feelings, even just acknowledging the confusion he brought about, it could end this easy, sweet friendship and she couldn't let him go. Particularly not now when she was trapped in this Dragonborn role and would need whatever support any of them could provide. And then there was the chance that she would hurt Ralof beyond - anything - and deprive them both of a relationship that could potentially mean the world to them. Everything hurt and she shook her head against Seamus' arm, wanting to thank him for not pushing for her answer. He _did_ know her.

"Life sucks, Seamus, it really does. Just as soon as you think you have it figured out, something else comes up and screws you over. How can anyone expect to come out ahead? It's just so… hopeless. I wanted to be completely done and do you know how hard it is to realize that fighting Alduin was just the _beginning?_ Fate, the gods, this whole damn thing, has one hell of a sense of humor."

"Hey," Aine couldn't stand the tenderness there and pressed her head down, "Hey, my inferno, look at me," Seamus' voice had a steel undertone that she didn't think she'd ever heard before and she slowly brought her head up to press her chin to her hand again and look into those pale brown eyes, "You want to escape, you give me the word and I'll light the place on fire to give you a chance. But you won't do that because you, my dear Anni, have the best heart in the world. You'll help these people here and teach them a few things about how to care about those that mean something to you. But you're right, life does suck and I can't even start to talk you out of that one. Now look on the bright side, you aren't alone in it; if you need anything I'm here for you. Fires are pretty effective, you know."

"And you'd come with me?"

Seamus must've caught the seriousness of her words and his temper evened. His smile was the crooked easy one she loved and forever considered hers, and she pressed her cheek to his arm again.

"Anytime, little inferno, anytime."

Aine felt tears burn in her eyes and she nodded her head. She loved him, so much, but she couldn't put him on the spot now. She wouldn't - _couldn't_ \- do that to him. Instead she smiled and reached to squeeze his wrist with her free hand.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

The next few days were taken up with recovery and then assisting with nursing Seamus as well. He had taken quite a beating from Stychus' lackey and though the salves and potions eased the discomfort and helped him sleep, he couldn't move without causing himself substantial pain. Percival stepped in to help when he could as well, but for the most part it fell to Aine and Nan, the feisty little Breton that roundly scolded Aine that first morning she discovered her sleeping against Seamus' bed, their heads close together. Aine allowed it, meekly apologizing and then asking what the treatment and regiment would be for Seamus, causing a softness she was sure she'd never see again in the nurse. She was truly interested in the methods that would be used and though in the past she had never felt she would have patience for nursing, she supposed anyone could change. The only downside to this was that she had to look at the damage done to Seamus' back and it almost killed her each time. Those lashes he took because of her, no matter what he tried to say to the contrary, and she refused to let him vocalize those warning looks when she helped Nan change the dressings and apply salves.

She had been rather concerned about the past coming back to bite her in the ass when it was made public who her companions were and it didn't take long for word to come from Solitude regarding the 'fugitive' Percival Coyne that Balgruuf was housing. Aine didn't think for a moment that the jarl would act on these warnings, but she hated the idea of causing him more trouble when she had already given him his fair share. If not for her - again - Stychus would never have been present in Dragonsreach.

As it happened, the summons came from Balgruuf when Nan was supposed to change Seamus' bandages and Aine was down enough that she didn't mind the distraction at all. She wandered to the upstairs desk where she and Seamus had met the jarl and his captains that day and saw that the doors to the dragon trap were still wide open. Her thoughts threatened to slide right into the night Ralof tried to pin her down and she shook it away as best she could. _Pin_ you _down, Ai? Really, play coy about it if you have to, but don't be stupid; it doesn't suit._

"And here she is," Balgruuf's words cut Meara's voice short in her head and she looked at the jarl with such pleasant relief she was worried he'd ask her what the problem was. He didn't however, instead waving to the beautiful olive skinned, dark haired woman seated at the desk. She held a pottery mug in one hand and steam curled up about her finely featured face while her dark hazel eyes studied Aine thoroughly, "Celesse Trindle, meet our Dragonborn Aine Bird; Dragonborn, Celesse Trindle emissary from the Empire's outpost in Solitude."

Celesse merely held out her free hand to Aine, not standing from the desk, and Aine stared at her until the Imperial woman dropped it again. She spoke airily, like the greeting didn't matter to her, but somehow Aine got the impression that she had just failed some sort of test.

"The Empire, indeed all of Tamriel, is indebted to you, Dragonborn. Without your work here, all would have been lost and we will never forget this."

"I'm sensing a 'but', Lady Trindle."

"Your jarl did say you were clever and quick, my lady. Yes, there is a but, and a rather crucial one. It has come to the Empire's attention that you have ties with one Percival Coyne. I must advise you, Lady Dragonborn, that you have a viper in your midst. Percival Coyne is a known criminal and thief in Solitude, most recently accused of attempted thievery at the Lutter estate. Apparently there was some fiasco with a jewel or set of jewels-"

"Jewel, singular," Aine interrupted and ignored the pointed look Balgruuf gave her, "I'm familiar with it."

"Then you will understand, I'm sure, that we must ask you to turn over Master Coyne and anything he might have had on his person when he joined your number."

Aine let the silence stretch for a while. Pleasure in these little things was all she could get anymore. She finally met Celesse's gaze and felt every ounce of her old nature protest at the look in the woman's eyes. She was a politician through and through. She had planned this meeting, there was nothing spontaneous or sudden about it and Aine wasn't going to play her game. She glanced quickly at Balgruuf who, other than a brief clench of his jaw, remained impassive. Percival had proved himself a great help to the town and Balgruuf in particular. He had always had a talent when it came to designs in architecture, he knew where a weak point would be in a facade, what windows would be susceptible to weather, how to tell if a door would catch or open silently; the best places to cause a vulnerability in a roof… Granted, all this talent was used for their - questionable - work, but it had become rather invaluable to Balgruuf who saw it as a way to further defend Whiterun should the Empire or Stormcloaks take more violent and immediate action against her. He would be an ally as long as he felt it within his power to do so and keep his people and town safe. It was something Aine could work with, even understand; hell, she was about to do what was unthinkable just a few weeks ago, and all to keep Seamus and Meara - if she were here - happy and content.

"Percival Coyne has become quite the star here, Lady Trindle, he hasn't displayed any traits of a - was it viper? - and Jarl Balgruuf in particular has made use of him as a very practical and insightful architect, repairing some damage to Whiterun that has been crumbling for years," Aine felt the swift, utterly confused glance from the jarl and she kept her face smooth, knowing the man was intelligent enough to see exactly what she was doing here and not interrupt with questions of why, "There's also the fact that the man saved my life, at great risk to his own, and I believe that means he's under _my_ protection now. So no, Lady Trindle, I'm afraid we will not be 'turning over' Coyne to the Empire, not when I, the Dragonborn, may have a need for him."

Celesse was too professional to show real anger, but the brief flicker of frustration could not be hidden. She set her cup on the desk and sat even straighter, if that was possible.

"And what _need_ could the Dragonborn have for a criminal?"

"Don't worry about that, my lady, we'll think of something," Aine knew irrelevance probably wasn't the best tactic here, but it felt fantastic and then a thought struck her. She had just stepped back from the desk and she stopped, cocking her head at Celesse, "You said something about attempted thievery. So Percival never had the jewel? At any time?"

"I fail to see why that matters."

"It probably doesn't," Aine couldn't completely hide the wince when she shrugged, but it was getting better. The mental pain when she realized Meara had truly died for nothing was what bothered her more, "I just think your wording is interesting coupled with the demand that Coyne be given up with anything he might have had on him. But it really doesn't matter, my mind is made up."

"You are telling the Empire no, Lady Dragonborn?"

"I'm telling the Empire no, Lady Trindle."

Celesse glanced at Balgruuf as if expecting him to intercede now and he arched his brows.

"My lady?"

"You're refusing to assist the Empire as well, jarl? When General Tullius hears of this-"

"When General Tullius hears of this, he can come and speak to me directly," Aine said firmly, not in the mood to banter with this woman and not about to stand idly by while Balgruuf was threatened, directly or indirectly, "This is my decision, Lady Trindle, the Dragonborn's decision, and if the general wishes to argue that, it had better be done in person and not through a proxy. Jarl Balgruuf and Whiterun may be housing us, but do not for a moment think that the jarl is shielding Coyne from you."

"How does this argument make sense? If the jarl is housing you and your comrades, he is involved and therefore he needs to be held accountable. Perhaps you should let him speak for himself."

"And I certainly will, my lady. The Dragonborn and her comrades - questionable or not - are more than welcome here and I will not be taking any action against them," Balgruuf spoke evenly, almost pleasantly, though the undercurrent of steel was difficult to miss, "They defended Dragonsreach when one of the Empire's captains decided to take action against her and the Dragonborn and one of her closest companions both suffered beatings in that skirmish. As we stand right now, Lady Trindle, Whiterun is on the side of the Dragonborn as a means of thanks and I am in complete agreement with her. If the general has heartache with the message, he is more than welcome to come and speak to us all in person."

Aine silently blessed the man for his loyalty and determination, and she gave Celesse a small bow.

"Sorry you had to travel all this way for a response that could have been written, Lady Trindle, and I'm sure this would be considered a capital offense if the Empire wasn't embroiled in this confrontation with Ulfric and his Stormcloaks. As it is, I'm going to wish you the best in the coming days and bid you a farewell."

She left the top office and wandered back to Seamus' room, and hers too, she supposed. She would have taken over the couch after that first night, but Nan had her bed moved in when Aine made it clear she didn't want to leave Seamus alone. He hadn't protested and seemed just as happy having her with him as she was having him. The nightmares still plagued her sleep and though it made her feel a bit guilty to use him for it, she knew he was the only one that could break through them for her. A small voice whispered that Ralof could do that just as well, maybe better, but he had been kept busy with Balgruuf who was worried Ulfric would start making demands now the dragon threat was gone and he appreciated having one who knew how the Stormcloak leader's mind worked. In fact, they hadn't seen much of each other since that first night and because of her insistence at staying with Seamus, they had never…

The door to the room was slightly ajar and Aine felt her face flush when Ralof turned to look at her when she walked in. Seamus sat upright in one of the chairs near the hearth and Percival stood from the matching one, his eyes glinting in firelight.

"Why'd you do it, Bird?"

Aine blinked and felt the smile she sent to Seamus fade from her lips. Percival wasn't angry, just very confused and she was amazed at how quickly word traveled here. She spread her hands and couldn't help but wince. Ralof moved a little closer and she forced herself to concentrate on Percival.

"You saved my life, Perce, and you're Seamus' best friend. We haven't gotten along and we probably never will, but you know I keep my word and never back out of a deal, and that's pretty much what you and I have right now: a deal. I'm not going to turn you over to them just because I can and though I'm nowhere near ready to discuss why you acted like you did with Stychus, he's dead and the credit goes to you. For now, until we piss each other off again, I suppose, you and I are good."

Percival studied her for a moment and then nodded, settling back into his chair. Aine waited for him to say something, _expected_ him to say something, but he merely looked into the fire and she lifted her shoulders a little. The spark of annoyance seemed a good thing and then Ralof's voice sounded.

"So can I steal her from you for a minute, Hady? I need to talk to her."

Seamus arched his brows and studied Ralof a minute before looking at Aine. Her cheeks reddened even more and the annoyance deepened; again it seemed a really good thing.

"I guess I can let her go for a bit. But what does she have to say about it?"

Aine snorted and turned to Ralof.

" _She_ is in the room and able to answer for herself," She retorted and was absurdly pleased at Seamus' sudden grin, "And yes, Ralof, we can talk."

He swept his arm to the door and fell in beside her when they wandered toward the official side of Dragonsreach. The rooms were close to the kitchens and set more into the bedrock of the place, providing safety and security for the family, and Ralof was allowed the use of a little office not far from their rooms while he and Balgruuf discussed tactics. Aine had only seen it once when she had to ask the jarl about other business one day and she had been struck at the view from the small balcony. Ralof opened the door to this now and she saw they were on the east side of Dragonsreach, the river bounding down through the rocks below them. She let out a breath and walked to the railing, ignoring the small carved bench immediately to her left, and pressed her palms against the cold bricks as she took in the mountain peaks and distant green valley. She felt Ralof come closer and stop beside her. For a moment they both stared out at the view and Aine could smell sage and leather. She inhaled quietly and enjoyed the stillness. The fingers of one of his hands brushed hers and she almost made a move to take it when he spoke.

"Ulfric wants me back."

Aine's heart lurched. The past few days weren't exactly what she had been expecting - they certainly couldn't be what _he_ had expected - but having him here, seeing him at meal times, just knowing he was somewhere in the building had been - comforting. And never mind that she had held him at bay and spent that time with Seamus; she just liked knowing he was present had she needed him.

"When?"

"As soon as possible. They've been attacking some of the more remote outposts belonging to the Empire and he needs my help. Balgruuf's got a good handle on his business here and the dragon menace is gone," Aine could feel him looking at her and she refused to meet his gaze, unable to stand it, "It's time for me to go back to my brothers, but you needed to hear it from me. It was only right."

Aine still couldn't look up at him and her hands clenched the rail tightly. He shuffled even closer and the smell of sage deepened. One of his hands covered hers and she dropped her attention to his fingers. They were long and graceful-looking and his hand seemed to fit perfectly over hers; and she hated herself for how she had hurt him these past few days.

"Well, say something, my girl."

She inhaled a silent breath and stared at their hands as though entranced. Thousands of thoughts were running through her head, how the hell could she pick just one? But she tried in spite of this.

"And you have to leave this - us… me?"

She was suddenly in his arms, caught against his chest as his mouth found hers, hungry and desperate. Some little edge of her brain argued for Seamus, but it was no use. Ralof was here and now, holding her tight to his body, kissing her with all the forceful passion of their moment in Balgruuf's office, and she was left with no choice but to twist her fingers into his shirt and melt into him. He broke the kiss long enough to say her name and allow her a gasp of air before covering her mouth with his again and turning them both so she was pressed into the cold wall of Dragonsreach. She could forgive his forgetfulness in this moment, but it didn't mean her back hurt any less in the face of it. Her mouth was torn from his with a cry and she shoved hard into his chest.

"Wait, wait," She said breathlessly, hardly more than a whisper, "Stop, wait!"

She heard the string of his curses under his breath and she thought for a fleeting moment he was angry with her until he put one hand against her neck and stepped back, pulling her away from the wall. Her eyes met his and she felt her heart thump wildly at the look he gave her. That dark blue gaze was darker with desire and she could see his own pulse thrumming in his neck. His thumb brushed her cheek and he looked so worried, _she_ felt guilty.

"Aine-"

"Don't apologize," Her voice was as hoarse as his and she wasn't sure if the breathlessness came from the kisses or the pain. That awful stabbing heat had only lessened a little and she didn't like it. It meant this road would be longer than any of them had originally believed, "You just forgot and I - I have to confess, I kind of did too."

Ralof's lips tipped into a warm smile and he bent toward her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She pressed her fingertips to his chest and he must have felt the tension in her arms. He drew his head back to look at her fully and his smile stretched.

"I'll be gentle, I promise."

Chills ricocheted up and down Aine's spine at the words, at the tone in which they were spoken, and she let out a small gasp that had him whispering her name and lowering his mouth to hers again. Her hands fell palm flat against him this time and she pressed enough to hold him at bay. He blinked down at her, his eyes dangerous, and she spoke before he could act on that.

"It can't be like this," She whispered and let her eyes flick to the office.

He pulled back a little further and frowned, his gaze mimicking hers.

"You mean here? The open door didn't bother you when you kissed me in Balgruuf's office."

Aine flushed before she could help it and shook her head, taking a half-step back. His hands were still on her shoulders, but she felt that some sanity had been restored. As much as she wanted to throw everything into the wind just moments ago… She shook the thought away and met his gaze.

"No, I mean all of it. You just told me you were heading back Ulfric and whatever work he has for you there, and then…"

"Bliss."

"Distraction," She corrected, her color deepening. It was one hell of a fight to keep her face stern when he grinned at her, "Come on, Ralof, I mean it. We can't do this. You said we needed to talk and you were absolutely right. We can't keep claiming this and then - attack each other the moment one or the other says something remotely teasing because the subject is going to get heavy. It's not fair - gods, I hate that argument - it's not right for either of us. And stop looking at me like that, I know I don't have a leg to stand on-"

"Damned straight, you don't," He said swiftly and closed the gap she had put between them, squeezing her shoulders when she tensed again, "You talk about teasing when you spoke to me like you did that night Stychus attacked us, looked at me like you did on the balcony, kissed me that way in the office… Do you have any idea, Aine Bird, the frustration you put me through? How fiercely I've been clawing at those walls you - _expertly_ \- built around your heart? Do you know how damned painful it is to have you reject me and then go to him like… Is that it? Are you in love with him?"

Aine had been caught up in watching his face during this speech and he shook her shoulders slightly at that last question, breaking the trance. She blinked, her lips parting, and felt the pain in her back worsen. It had to be something psychological, her hurt and desperation making it seem like the wound was burning, and her practical side snapped at her to focus. Ralof deserved _so_ much more than that.

"Ralof," She murmured and pressed on when his hold tightened painfully and his eyes lit, "You have to understand what Seamus means-"

"No, I don't. I don't, really. That's the only question that matters, it's the only answer that matters, and if that happens to be a yes, then… Well, then there's nothing else."

Fear stabbed through her and her eyes widened.

"You're not suggesting-"

"Just answer the damn question, Aine."

She searched his gaze and then would have scolded herself for thinking, even for that split-second, he would harm himself. But again, he deserved more and she couldn't make him wait too long. As it was, this was still something of an unknown even to her. _Ralof or Seamus; Seamus or Ralof?_ The names bounded around in her head, flip-flopping and turning with a rapidity that made her nauseous. Pros and cons; benefits and downfalls. The strong - stubborn - warrior, loyal to his lord, stalwart defender and unfailing protector that would forever bind her to Skyrim, forcing her to give up that lifestyle that had shaped her in every way? The sun-drenched girl beckoned with a look of such peace, she hurt from the inside out. Or the silly, affectionate, talkative shadow, her jester and dispeller of nightmares; never the leader, but more than happy and willing to follow her back into the shadows and out of Skyrim whenever she wanted? It was the familiar street urchin that beckoned; that shadowed world, hardly ever lit and supremely comfortable with all the other shades.

Her head spun and she closed her eyes, wishing that Alduin had ended her when she ended him so she didn't have to make this choice. But Ralof was still standing in front of her and though his hands had fallen from her shoulders, she could feel his gaze study her face; and that little sigh hurt in so many ways. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"I - I don't know," She whispered and felt real panic hit her when his face fell. Could she once, just _once_ , not hurt either of them by giving such a simple answer?! "Wait, just wait, don't leave it like this."

He had already started to turn away and Aine grabbed one arm, wincing at the increase of heat in her back. She wouldn't be dissuaded and instead stepped forward and pressed her head into his chest, feeling his heart lurch. She didn't think she could wrap her arms around him without causing more discomfort and let her fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, holding tight. Another sigh ruffled her hair and he put his own hands on her shoulders. She expected, any moment, that he would set her aside and he didn't. His strong arms looped gently around her, avoided the wound, and he pressed his chin to the top of her head. Her own heart began tripping at the tenderness and she let the quiet reign until she couldn't stand not explaining this.

"I'm sorry," The words were muffled against him and she felt his arms tighten a bit, "I'm so sorry. Seamus - Ralof, he means the world to me. He's my link to Meara and for a long time, that's what it was. That and the fact that he was always one of my partners, one of the very few people I could trust without question, who would be there no matter what, and that never changed. It wasn't until after… Will this hurt you?"

He chuckled and the sound and vibration were pleasant. She felt his head shift and knew he had pressed his lips to her hair.

"Let's just stay like this while you tell me, my girl, it eases everything."

A hopeless sort of wave swept through her and she picked up where she had left off.

"It wasn't until after we ran into trouble with Mercer Frey at Snow Veil that it… that I - started to realize. I almost lost him that night, Ralof, and the mere _idea_ about shattered me. It's my fault he's caught up in this and don't bother to try and tell me otherwise. When I came to in the camp and saw him laying there like that… everything seemed to shift. He's so dear to me, but I still can't - won't is a better word - say that I'm in love with him because…" She felt his stillness and knew she _was_ hurting him and there was nothing to be done about it, so she went on in a rush. Because saying it quickly made it hurt less, right? "Because I'm stubborn and there's a part of me that insists my feelings for him come from our lives in Solitude and _that's_ what I don't want to let go of."

"Even with the heartache and pain?"

"Even so. You wouldn't change any of the defining moments in your life, would you? No matter how painful or uncomfortable they were?"

"Of course not. Go on, girl."

"Yes, that was the night I felt it start to change. I'm not sure how much you know, but Seamus tagged along with me after the Greybeards sent me to the area of Morthal for an heirloom from their founder and I hadn't been entirely - welcoming. Like I said, I'm the reason that he's here; I was bound and determined to do this alone and I should have talked him out of it. But then we started traveling and working together for the first time in months and I got to be Aine the street urchin again. I got to go back to those days that may have been rife with worry and more than a bit uncomfortable, but they were the days when I had Meara and the rest; the days I had my dysfunctional family," She tipped her head against his chest a bit more firmly and listened to the steady beat of his heart, "Seamus was never more than an annoying brother to me until Snow Veil and that… His affectionate nature was the balm I needed, Ralof, as much as I found myself caring for you. And then the night on the balcony when we… You told me that you weren't him and this wasn't going to be that simple and I - I don't know. It set off a light in my head and I realized that whatever I feel for Seamus _isn't_ that simple anymore. And he doesn't know, he doesn't know. I'm still just Anni, his inferno, and he has no idea that I'm so, so… Shit, Ralof, I don't know what the hell I am anymore, other than so damned confused."

She hadn't intended to be so short, but she was still hurting and knew she had been hurting him with this talk, and that was more than enough to cause her to slip back into that old nature. Ralof held her tightly for a moment and then gently slid his hands to her shoulders again and moved back a step to look at her. Her fingers were still twisted in his shirt and she looked up into those dark eyes reluctantly. His face was serious and rather stern, that gaze more direct than she remembered seeing before. She had done absolutely nothing to deserve this man's affection and devotion; hell, she had been distancing herself from him for a few days now because _she_ was too weak to make a decision, and yet here he was, comforting her because fate was cruel and one didn't get to choose when or how or with whom one fell in love. She pressed her eyes closed and would have dropped her chin, but Ralof caught and held her firmly.

"No, no, my girl, you look at me. This, all of it, has been more than any one person can endure and you have born it like the fighter you are. If this one hiccup is all that comes of that relentless pounding you've suffered these past weeks then, my dear Aine, you're stronger stuff than even I thought. Seamus Hady is your man and always will be and that won't change with a shift from friend to lover, if that's indeed what happens here. You have every right in the world to hold everyone of us at arms length for as long as you need and I just want you to know that when you're ready, I'm here."

Aine pulled her chin from his grasp and went back into his arms, unable to stop that little moan when the wound pulled. She felt him tense, but didn't let go and he looped his arms around her. Her face pressed to his chest and she felt the pressure of his lips on her head again.

"I'm _so_ damned tired of fighting, Ralof, I want to be done. After all of this, I was hoping to escape and I don't think I can."

"And that just adds to everything, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea," She lifted her chin and met his gaze. He looked down at her so sweetly and she wished this indecision had never touched him, "When do you leave?"

"At this point, early morning tomorrow. There's an outpost roughly twenty or twenty-five miles north and east of here that Ulfric plans on targeting and then we travel northward from there."

"North? Because of Windhelm?"

"Right, Ulfric is worried the jarl might not have the strength to defend her if Tullius decides to strike."

Aine frowned, tipping her head a little, and it didn't seem at all that odd that they stood here in one another's arms and talked strategy. Actually in a strange way, it was very fitting.

"Do you have any intelligence on where Tullius is now?"

"Aine Bird the turncoat? No, girl, it doesn't fit," He smiled down at her and she allowed a chuckle, "What's the concern?"

Aine slid one hand up to fix a fold in his collar and pressed her hand to his heart. She had the strangest inkling in the back of her head about this plan and she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I'm not sure," She replied slowly and he seemed to want to return the favor of her preening him. He caught a stray curl that fell against her cheek and he held it a moment, twisting it around one finger before gently tucking it behind her ear, "Maybe it's just my ego, but I rather thought he and Ulfric would begin hounding the Dragonborn for public approval of one and condemnation for the other. And they've both remained mum. It doesn't make sense to me and after all the trouble we went through to get them to sit down and meet… Something's not quite right, Ralof."

The Nord watched her closely, his gaze thoughtful, and the beginnings of a frown formed a crease between his brows. His other hand had slipped to her waist and the one that played with her hair stayed perched on her shoulder. Aine still leaned against his chest and she briefly wondered how badly they had damaged her wounded back when she felt that familiar weakness.

"Tullius is in the north, the last Ulfric heard, and that we've always taken to mean Solitude or one of the smaller surrounding outposts. It's not a given, by any means, but a safe assumption," His lips tipped again in a little smile and his eyes glittered, "I don't suppose this means you want to come with me? Play the advisor?"

Aine gave an unladylike snort and shook her head.

"And finally fall off the edge? No thank you," She met his gaze again and felt her worry deepen. He seemed to pick up on it. His arms went back around her and she spread her fingers across his chest, "But be careful, okay? And maybe don't venture north so quickly? I'm worried about Balgruuf's position here. He didn't make a public show of support for either side, but with you being here and Stychus… doing what he did, it just feels like it could turn really quickly. And Whiterun shouldn't suffer because of a perception."

"You're a shrewd little thing, my girl, and so much softer than you want others to believe," He interlaced his fingers behind her and knew not to touch her tender back. His face eased into another smile, this one a bit more hopeful, "You sure you can't come with me?"

"Ralof… You are persistent, I'll give you that. And you know I can't. Delphine and Esbern tomorrow, remember?"

"Fair enough. In that case, I was told that Balgruuf has promised his people a celebration tonight for the Dragonborn and her - was it 'glorious' victory? - and his little Dagny wants music for dancing," Ralof held her a bit closer when she tried to move away, "Promise me one of the dances, at least. I know - everyone - will be clamoring for your attention and I need to grab what I can."

"You have me right now."

Ralof's amusement faded and his hold grew a bit tighter. The gold flecks in his eyes glinted in the sunlight and caused the blue to shine even darker.

"Do I?"

Aine smiled faintly and even as the Meara-voice in her head told her not to do this, not to give him this impression or hope - real or not, she couldn't stop that sun-drenched girl from taking over. Her hands slid up to cradle his face and she arched up to her tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek, her lips hitting the corner of his mouth. He instantly turned his head to capture hers and she dropped her chin. His lips hit her brow and she spoke before he could.

"None of that, please… for now. Not until I figure this out, okay?"

There was a long pause and then Ralof nodded his head against hers. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Okay."

* * *

"Really, you can just leave me right there between them, it's probably the best place for me to be. At least there's the guarantee I won't go anywhere, not with those incentives."

Aine rolled her eyes as Percival allowed a small smile. Seamus was incorrigible as ever and it thrilled her to see that nature remained untouched. They approached the door leading to Dragonsreach's great hall and she actually had to pull at Seamus' arm a bit to keep him moving past the enormous kegs of ale. The smell of the fine stuff filled the hallway and she had to resist the urge to duck back to the kitchen and grab a tankard for a quick taste. She felt Seamus' amused, knowing gaze on her and she forced her expression to one of sternness before she looked up at him.

"Not a chance, Seamus. If I have to be out there navigating my way through all these well-wishers, then you have to be out there, too," Percival opened the door and whatever protest was on Seamus' lips was drowned out by the sudden roar of applause and cheers. Aine instinctively drew back against Seamus' arm, her hand finding his, "Especially now."

"Uh huh, Anni, you had your chance."

She hated him for pushing her forward and she turned a glare on him, feeling her lips quirk at his crooked grin and quick wink. Balgruuf was suddenly beside her, taking her arm, and leading her to the top of his dais. Ralof stood on the step to her right and he gave her a warm smile that made her cheeks rosy. Frothar, tow-headed Dagny, and their slim, scowling brother Nelkir stood close by and Frothar's grin was huge. Irileth and Farengar and Avenicci were on the opposite side of the steps and Irileth raised one hand. The crowd that filled the great hall slowly quieted down and Balgruuf stood forward a bit more, tugging Aine with him.

"My lords and ladies, our torment is at an end! The dragon menace has been finished and tonight we will honor our dead and give thanks to those that protected Skyrim! To the Dragonborn!"

A glass was pressed into Aine's hand and Balgruuf raised one as well. The hall was quiet as those gathered raised their own glasses and drank the toast. Aine sipped experimentally at the beautiful ruby colored liquid. It was somehow sweet and a bit tart on the back of her tongue, the heat almost pleasant in her throat, and the bubbles that rolled up the sides of the glass tickled her nose. She held it loosely in her hand as more cheers went up and Balgruuf implored them to enjoy the feast and drink to the honored dead once more. He turned to her and smiled.

"It's made from snowberries and a traditional drink for toasts," He explained, "And there's nothing that says you have to finish it if you don't care for it."

"No, it's just-"

"I'll finish it."

Seamus was beside her, reaching for the glass, and Aine held it away, almost hitting Ralof in the chest when he stepped to her other side. She laughed at her friend and once more was so relieved he was still himself. That damn voice had whispered to 'little Bird' about him falling into old habits, considering the beating he had taken, and as much faith as she had in his determination this time around, she'd be lying if she said it wasn't a concern. Stychus would have a hold on her life for so much longer than she ever thought and she hated how often his words crept into her head…

She gave herself a rough mental shake.

"Seamus-"

"Hey, you wouldn't let me hang out by the kegs, the least you could do is let me have something you don't even like."

"Did I say I didn't like it? Seamus, stop," She laughed again, those dark thoughts receding, and this time backed into Ralof while trying to keep him from grabbing the glass.

The Nord caught her shoulders and she glanced up at him when his laugh joined hers.

"All right, you two, peace," He motioned with one hand and one of the servants brought another glass, "Sit down and get some food to go along with the drink."

Seamus grinned widely at Aine and lifted his new glass to her. She returned the favor and they made their way to Balgruuf's table. The feast was remarkable; every dish imaginable placed before them and the weight was enough to cause even these sturdy tables to creak a bit. Aine, interrupted several times over because someone would come up and want to press her hand or thank her, actually found herself enjoying it. Seamus lounged at one side with Percival, spouting nonsense and being as affectionate - and annoying - as ever, and Ralof was a steady presence at the other elbow. He would murmur the names of some of the more note-worthy well-wishers to her as they approached and, no surprise, she preferred the attention of the townsfolk.

A few of the little girls that accompanied their parents passed flowers to her and Seamus had taken the first small collection and tucked it into the turn of one of her braids over her ear, telling her that as great as she looked, she needed more adornment. She had allowed it because it was him. And he was probably right. Her clothing was much more modest than the robe she'd worn to Elenwyn's party: a dark green, scarlet embroidered tunic-top that fit comfortably over her wounded back and simple leggings. She hadn't worn her armor since returning to Dragonsreach from Hrothgar and so that didn't bother her as much as it had the night of that damned party. That was the last thing she wanted to consider right now and when a small voice sounded at her elbow, it was a welcome distraction.

"Can this one go there, too?"

She glanced down as Seamus tipped away a bit. A petite girl stood there, her dark blond hair twisted away from her narrow face and her stormy grey eyes serious. She wasn't much older than nine or ten and she held another flower in one hand. This one was a rose, only partially opened and cream colored with the faintest tint of red at the edges of the petals. Aine smiled at the girl.

"What's your name?"

"Rana."

"Well, Rana, that's very sweet of you," Aine stopped herself before reaching out for the rose and she tipped her head, concealing the wince when she turned on the bench to face the girl more fully, "Would you put it over this ear for me?"

Rana nodded, her eyes suddenly sparkling. She tucked the rose through the braid on the other side and Aine caught a scent like strawberries in the summer sun before the girl's arms went around her neck. She was struck for the thousandth time at the adoration she'd garnered and she hugged the girl back briefly before Rana slipped away and skipped to a tall woman that had her eyes and hair. Aine watched her go, waving her hand at the mother and turning to meet Seamus' gaze. His cheeks were a little pink with the warmth of the room and the alcohol, and it was a vast improvement over the past few days of him looking white as a sheet. His eyes were steady on hers and she saw them flicker a bit with appreciation and something else she couldn't name. Her fingers touched the rose and she smiled at him.

"Is that better?"

He blinked and it seemed to take a minute before he glanced at the rose. She felt her stomach almost clench and forced herself to not look away. His lips twisted into her crooked grin and he raised his glass.

"Much better, little inferno. We'll make a spoiled, self-centered hero out of you yet."

She rolled her eyes at him and met Ralof's gaze. His smile and the warmth in the depths of those gold-flecked eyes _did_ make her stomach clench and her heart flip, but she put that aside and determined to enjoy her evening without thinking too much on the distractions - on either side of her.

Aine sat there between them, beyond content that she still _had_ the two of them, and simply immersed herself in the sounds and smells of the great hall and its people. The feast was sumptuous and extensive, but there was a charming simplicity interspersed in this bounty and she wondered how they managed it. And then her eyes went around to these good, hard-working, devoted people and it made perfect sense.

A while later, music started swelling through the hall and groups of younger men and women whooped with joy. There was a mad scramble to get furniture and those that partied a little too hard out of the way, and Aine found herself swept into the first group of dancers. Thankfully it was a simple one and though her face still flamed with embarrassment, she was able to pick it up easily and actually enjoy herself. And that was the _very_ last thing she'd ever expected. Dancing wasn't something she'd ever bothered to learn and though she could feel her back protest some of the movements, it seemed worth it to feel - alive. She was spun into a second dance that stretched even longer with a more complicated step and her face was already warm when the music ended and she turned to find herself practically in Ralof's arms. A little gasp escaped her and he held her forearms, smiling. Music began again and this time it wasn't nearly as spirited, but it was beautiful.

"I did claim one of the dances, girl, and I'd like this one."

Aine felt her heart flip again and she let out another breath, this one supposed to be steadying. Her face lost none of its heat.

"Well, considering these people would be shocked if the Dragonborn refused such a simple request from one of their heroes, I suppose I'll have to accept."

"It'd be quite the scandal. No, no, my girl," He held her hand when she tried to walk toward another pair of dancers and she frowned at him, "This one is just for partners. Similar steps, but just the two of us."

A thrill went through her and she followed his lead while the music rebounded through the great hall. It truly was beautiful and it struck her that she'd never bothered to enjoy music before this night. Ralof was right, the steps were very similar to the previous dance and her heart tripped rather madly every time she felt his arm close around her waist and they made another revolution. He kept smiling down at her, every so often instructing or praising, and he caught her gently against his chest as the dance ended. There was a pause and then another easy, beautiful song began.

"I have to say you have potential, Lady Dragonborn. Let me have this dance, too, and we'll perfect it."

Aine wanted to get back at him for the 'Dragonborn' nonsense and instead grinned before she could help it.

"Flatterer."

The dance was only a quarter through when Seamus suddenly appeared. He looked a little peaked and his smile was apologetic.

"I'm afraid I've got to cut in here, Blondie, Gruf needs a word with you."

Ralof nodded and pressed Aine's hand.

"So it goes. She's all yours, Hady."

Aine couldn't deny her disappointment at losing him, but Seamus' hands were warm and steady and her heart drummed at the tenderness in his eyes.

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

Seamus arched his brows at her and his lips tipped into her smile.

"Unwanted middle son of a semi-noble family, remember? I have a wealth of completely useless information stored up here."

"That's not what I meant," Her grin faded a bit as flashes of that night came back to her and she tipped her head, "You look a little tired."

"Little inferno, you've got to let some of that go. I keep telling you it's not your fault; are you ever going to believe that?"

"No, and let's not ruin tonight arguing about it."

"My stubborn Anni," He sighed and they danced for a moment in silence. He was smoother than Ralof and though he moved a little gingerly, it seemed second-nature to him. His pale brown eyes found hers again, "So what happens now, huh?"

Aine frowned for a split-second and then realized what he meant. She lifted her shoulders and found that the two of them had slowed considerably compared to the other dancers. She didn't mind; it was nice to be in his arms so innocently. Though she wasn't sure how to answer that question and hated the indecision.

"Right now? Finish this dance and get another drink."

"Aine, I'm serious."

"I know, I just… I'm not sure yet. Delphine and Esbern are here tomorrow and I'm sure Delphine will have some choice words for me, but I can't keep taking advantage of Balgruuf's hospitality. I'm not going back to Solitude and like we already discussed, I'm not getting out of this Dragonborn thing. So I just don't know."

"And you think you're in it alone?" Seamus smiled down at her and she would have stopped if he hadn't kept them in step with everyone else. Her eyes met his and he went on before she could interrupt, "We're in this together, right? I'm not going anywhere."

"Seamus, you-"

"I'm back," Ralof's voice cut through Aine's and this time both of them stopped. The Nord's blue eyes were on Aine and he looked grim, "And I'm afraid Ulfric wants me early."

"Oh."

Aine couldn't think of anything else to say and Seamus' hold loosened. He started to step back and she clasped his hand for a moment. Those pale brown eyes met hers and the question there hurt almost more than Ralof's words. He glanced at Ralof and actually looked a bit embarrassed, and Aine turned her attention abruptly to the Nord.

"I'm sorry, girl, I hoped to have tonight with - with everyone, but this can't wait."

"Right," Aine murmured and dropped Seamus' hand. Both men were looking at her now and she felt that confusion get even thicker. She let out a breath and met Ralof's gaze. He smiled at her and she tipped her head, "I'm sorry, I… I'm sorry you can't stay."

"Me, too," He looked at her for a moment and then stepped forward and caught her up in his arms. She half-expected to feel the pain spring to life in her back, but he was gentle and her heart broke a little, "More than you know. Thank you, my dear girl, for the dance," He put his mouth next to her ear and dropped his voice, "And be happy, Aine Bird, whatever choice you make, _be happy."_

Aine's arms went around his neck and she pressed her face into his shoulder. The hurt deepened and her sigh was very shaky when it escaped her. She felt him start to pull back and she rose up to her tiptoes and pulled his head down to give him a kiss on the cheek. Ralof instantly turned his head and his lips caught hers, featherlight and lover-like. Her heart started to break again and this kiss was over before it really started, though her hands had somehow twisted in his hair. She flushed bright red and quickly let him go, doing her best to ignore the drunken whistles that sounded from the other end of the hall. Seamus had melted away and Ralof touched her cheek.

"Aine-"

"Don't ask me," She whispered and closed her eyes, hating herself for pushing his hand away, "Please, don't ask me. I can't, not now, and… Please."

He nodded and tipped forward to kiss her forehead. Aine kept her eyes closed and then regretted it when the Nord turned and disappeared. She caught the gaze of a rather hopeful young man who stood near one of the pillars and she hated the sight of the damned things, her mind going to Stychus and the tortures he expertly laid. She could see the precise pattern of blood in the flagstones as if it was still there and the hurt deepened.

The man had taken a step toward her and she sent him a cool glare, stopping him in his tracks and making him turn away, almost directly into one of the tables. Ignoring everyone else in the room, too annoyed with herself to put up with more senseless prattle, she left the hall and retreated to her room.

The fire was banked and she stoked it up against the chill that threatened. Her bed was tucked behind a screen she'd found in one of the other rooms and she kept thinking of Seamus' comment about hiding away from 'salacious eyes'. It sent another pang through her and she jerked the scarlet embroidered top over her head ruthlessly. Balling it up, she tossed it into the corner of the room and pulled on one of her own battered shirts that made her feel more like herself. Her hands went to the pins in her braids next and she tugged them out with as much annoyance until her fingers found the flowers.

She paused a moment and then gently pulled loose the little bundle with which Seamus had decorated her. She held the sprig in one palm and studied the delicate white and blue flowers. The faint speck of yellow in their centers made her think of the forget-me-nots that grew in the hills around Solitude during the late spring-early summer and she remembered the handful of peaceful afternoons her little 'family' had spent there. Those days they had 'skimmed' - Seamus' term - enough to feast like kings and forget they had to go back to those deep shadows in the city's alleys and storm drains when night fell.

She touched one of the tiny blossoms and then pulled the rose free as well. Giving in to sentimentality, she tucked them both away into a small square of clean bandage from Nan's stores and put them in a pocket of her pack. She pulled the rest of the pins from her hair, threw another piece of wood on the fire, and then climbed into bed. She lay there, listening to the crackling flames and remembering all those moments with Meara; and trying to ignore how much that voice that scolded her about Ralof sounded like her old friend. She was a fool and she didn't need this shade or memory to tell her that.

Seamus came into the room much later, but she had her back to him and didn't say anything. He shuffled about quietly, for him, and she almost broke her silence when he got into his bed and whispered a sweet good night to his inferno. She chewed the inside of her cheek and felt that burn of tears deep in her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. All around her, Dragonsreach settled and creaked in its sleep and she heard Arngeir's words about it being her choice how history remembered her. And felt her temper flare. The Greybeard had been so completely wrong and she was more trapped than ever.

* * *

 **A/N 2.0:** Sorry, I forgot to mention, or rather assure you that I actually do have the story finished now and I'm going to be posting again early next week, I promise! (As much as that means right now...)


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N:** See? I'm actually doing it! (Not that I have anything to really be proud of after my HORRIBLY disappointing track record with this story!) And now, confession: I know I said something about two big posts and that would be the end, but I'm thinking of writing a little bit of an epilogue and so the end of the story will be the next post. Not to worry, if I don't manage the epilogue I do have the story officially finished, so the chapter will come either way. As always, enjoy and all the best to every single one of you!

* * *

She dozed off and on throughout the night, sometimes starting awake with a gasp of fear from a dimly horrifying nightmare. Seamus, however, stayed sound asleep which at least meant she hadn't been screaming again; and the nightmares were fuzzy and vague. She couldn't remember any details from them save that she woke up more dispirited and helpless. Finally, in the very early morning hours, she gave up and got out of bed. She tugged on a pair of pants that matched her shirt in its shabbiness and loosely braided her hair out of her face. Her back felt stiff and sore and she eased out of the room as quietly as she could, hating the idea of waking Seamus when he slept so peacefully.

Ralof's borrowed office was empty, the desk still stacked with neat piles of clean parchment and various correspondence. She ran her fingers over the utilitarian ink stand and wondered why she thought she should feel there was something of the Nord left in this room. He had only used it for a few days, it wasn't as though he had lived here full-time. And hell, why did it matter? Hadn't she done her best to keep him away?

She shook her head and wandered to the small balcony. The sky was streaked with pink and the rush of the river echoed in the still, cold air. She stood at the railing for a time, watching the pink deepen to red over the jagged peaks and stretch closer to Dragonsreach. Clouds piled against the northeast edge of the range and looked to promise more snow, and her breath came out in a puff of white. Her back still stung and she retreated to that little bench, not ready to mingle with any of the staff or residents of the palace just yet. The beauty of the sunrise actually helped to keep her mind calm and empty, and there was something soothing in that steady alteration from intense to pastel shades.

The smell of coffee preceded him and Seamus seemed to know better than to speak to her right now. Instead, he handed her one of the two mugs he carried and moved around to sit beside her on the bench. Aine took a sip of the strong coffee and welcomed the warmth and caffeine; it was better for everyone that she had it in her system, to be perfectly honest. She dropped the mug to her lap, cradling it in both hands, and felt Seamus' shoulder brush hers. He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed one ankle over the other as he drank his coffee and watched the sun peak over the ridge. She studied his profile for a minute and her heart ached with true affection for him. He deserved so much in this life, he had become so dear to her, and she felt that peace the sky gave her threatening to slip away in the face of this sudden proximity to him.

She sipped the coffee again and turned her attention back to the sunrise, silently blessing the man for knowing her well enough to not say anything. She thought she could feel his eyes on her and she didn't look away from the lovely combination of pale yellow, pink, and blue. Two slim black shapes crossed over the colors and Aine heard the hoarse caw of the ravens calling to one another.

Her lips curled into a smile. She had always loved the raucous things and she suddenly remembered the pretty little figurine Seamus had given her years ago for her birthday. It was only a few inches high, made of pottery with beautifully detailed feathers, and coated with a flat black enamel that gleamed almost blue in certain lights; like the birds' actual coloring. It was one of those trinkets she'd made sure to grab when Meara and Percival invaded her place that night and actually still had it after all these damn trials - interior pockets were essential to a thief. Right now the raven was buried down in her pack so far she would have to dump the damn thing to find it again.

His shoulder brushed hers a second time and she watched the path of the ravens as she clasped her mug in both hands. That memory of his gift was a rare good one and she felt the peace return, bit by bit. She let out a sigh and tipped her head onto his shoulder. Seamus went still for a split second and then relaxed, drawing his legs back toward him and resting his coffee mug on the outside one. Aine could smell the coffee and those salves Nan used on his wounds, and underneath was his own scent of something spicy that reminded her of myrrh or horseradish root mixed with a rather woodsy scent. The combination was wonderful and she inhaled quietly as she tipped her head more firmly against him. Seamus' cheek pressed to her and she closed her eyes briefly, reveling in this simple show of affection.

"My stubborn Anni, we need to talk."

Aine closed her eyes more tightly and she felt her fingers press against the mug so hard it would be broken if it was made of anything but pottery. She would have lifted her head, but Seamus wasn't about to move and she was physically trapped this time, not just mentally.

"Seamus-"

"Uh-huh, Aine Bird, you tell me what's going on. I think I deserve that much."

"And so much more," She nestled her head more firmly and then pressed on without waiting for an answer there, "Ralof is gone, what does it matter?"

"It matters to me. What the hell is the hold-up here?"

"I - I… It's not that easy."

Seamus shifted a little, but still didn't lift his head from hers.

"Because of me, right?"

Aine pulled abruptly away, nearly dropping her mug. She looked at him in complete surprise and opened her mouth to answer, but couldn't think of what to say.

"Seamus-"

"Come on, Anni, give me some credit. We already agreed I might be a bit dense, but I'm not blind. Blondie wants you, probably has since the first day he met you, and then you show up again with me in tow," He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and he gave her a knowing look, and she caught that deeper gleam in his eyes that she still couldn't name, "And given that you've been glued to me since Stychus and his games, I'm thinking he's gotten the wrong impression from you."

Aine snorted and looked away, the sky was losing its yellow and pink while the blue deepened. Her annoyance made her honesty more prevalent, as always.

"Gods, you _are_ dense! It's not that simple an answer. I thought it was once and I'm pretty sure that was true, and now I just have no idea. I mean, come on, Seamus, you - I… Never mind, just forget it. Delphine has probably never been late for anything in her life and she and Esbern will be here before I know it. I should get ready."

She actually managed a step before Seamus' hand circled her wrist and tugged her roughly down beside him again. A gasp of pain escaped her and she felt her temper flare to life. Her eyes met his and she realized her mistake far too late. His brown eyes were shuttered and he hadn't let go of her.

"What the hell are you talking about, Aine? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I - It's nothing, Seamus, really," She answered, frantically backpedaling and not sure it was doing her any good, "I'm just tired and not looking forward to any of this nonsense. It's too easy to take everything out on an innocent," Her eyes didn't leave his and she saw the shuttered look slowly leaving; her nervousness started to ease and she smiled at him, "Really, it's nothing."

He cocked his head and slipped his hand down to grip hers, suddenly seeming to realize that her wrist was still tender. She didn't care for that calculating look he gave her, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the voice that whispered she had to be the one to end this uncertainty. She had already confessed to Ralof, was it really going to be that much more difficult to tell Seamus? And his next words answered that question for her.

"Why'd you kiss me that night, Anni?"

Her nervousness threatened to rush right back and she did her best to stem the tide. Meara's voice in her head pointed out the perfection of this moment, but she couldn't help her old nature and she lifted her shoulders a bit.

"You wouldn't stop. You were trying to tell me to run, don't deny that, and I wasn't going to. I'm your stubborn little inferno and you should have known better."

Seamus' lips quirked and that Meara side of her started to scold her for glossing over this. She pushed that aside and watched her friend. There was still a deeper gleam of - something - in his eyes even with some of the old dynamic restored. He studied their hands and idly touched the carved ring on the second finger of her right hand. It was carved from a stag antler and had been a gift from Meara on the same birthday he'd given her the raven statuette. His gaze suddenly turned retrospective and she wondered what he was thinking.

"That's fair enough, I suppose," His eyes met hers, "But are you sure that was all?"

Aine went still and, knowing it would be worse if she did, she refused to look away from him. He looked almost hopeful, but sad and her brows started to bunch. She heeded the Meara-voice which was louder than ever and she grasped his hand fully, turning her body toward his.

"Seamus," She started and then finished her coffee both because she needed the caffeine and because she wanted that hand free, too, "I'll admit that, lately, I've been - distracted - and… No, honesty; I've been confused out of my damned mind. And torn. I didn't want you to be involved in any of this, Seamus, it wasn't right to include you. But then we got into things and you are-"

"Fantastic."

 _Typical Seamus!_ Her annoyance quickened at the interruption even as she smiled and she caught the seriousness under his dancing eyes. She pressed on, more determined than ever to have this out.

"All right, yes, I'll give you that one. I don't have to remind you that you annoyed the hell out of me when we were in Solitude, but you have always been there for me. Every time I needed a hand with a job or just needed someone in general, you were there, without question. And this nonsense here had the huge potential to be very lonely," She tipped her lips into a humorless smile and shrugged again, "I needed you."

He nodded and his face remained blank.

"And now?"

Aine's lips parted and she shook her head, looking out over the plains. She felt her courage start to fail, but she couldn't leave it like this. Seamus' hand tightened a little and she turned her attention back to him. He arched his brows.

"And now I've let Ralof leave Whiterun without - anything - from me, and it's because I still do need you, Seamus. The problem is I need him in my life, too, and combine those two and you have one very confused little inferno."

"Anni," Seamus touched her cheek with his free hand and she let him cup her face, "You know I've always had a soft spot for you, I've never bothered to hide it, and next to Civ you're my dearest friend in the world. My little inferno, I want you to be happy and if I'm in the way-"

"Don't, this is not your fault and I'm not telling you this to get a specific reaction or response. You just - you deserved to know. I've put you through a lot these past months and I couldn't - couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I'm exhausted, Seamus. None of this is over even with Alduin being dead, and if I can't vent I'm going to lose it and to hell with the consequences."

Seamus' hand had slipped down to her shoulder during this speech and his fingers wove through her hair. His expression was so tender she felt her heart skip and she gave another shrug. Those pale brown eyes flickered, he said her name rather hoarsely; and a new voice cut in.

"Dragonborn? My lady?"

Aine inhaled sharply, wondering when Seamus had tipped that close. Or had she…? He was reluctantly letting her go, his fingers caressing her arm… She turned abruptly to the office door.

"I'm here."

The serving girl gave a bow, hands clasped together and eyes glittering with an almost reverence that just annoyed Aine even more.

"The Blades have arrived, lady, and are waiting in my lord jarl's office for you."

Aine got to her feet, very aware of Seamus doing the same. She retrieved her mug and couldn't help the wince when her back protested.

"Thank you, we'll head up there," She waited for the girl to leave before risking a glance at Seamus. He watched her steadily, his face now unreadable, and she realized with a sinking gut that, despite her best efforts, confessing to him hadn't helped at all, "I shouldn't keep them waiting."

"Anni-"

"It's okay, Seamus, really. You don't have to say anything. You don't. This is my burden, not yours, and I don't expect you to take it on," She spread her hands, feeling less than helpless, and didn't look away from him, "And it wasn't at all fair of me to say anything indicating I wanted you to. Go on, spend time with Perce and we'll talk later."

She turned to leave the balcony and Seamus' hand caught her elbow. Her body stiffened as he held fast and turned her back to face him; it was unrelenting as the tide and she had no choice. His free hand cupped her other arm and he shuffled closer as her eyes drifted shut. Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt his warm exhale across the bridge of her nose. She tipped her head up, not thinking what she was doing, and heard Seamus' sharp inhalation. His grip tightened to the point of pain and she didn't care. She missed Ralof, she wanted Meara back; she wanted everything back to her old normal. She _hated_ the fact that Esbern and Delphine were waiting for their Dragonborn and wasn't ready to deal with that at all. She wanted to be far, far away from all of this: all of these new demands, obligations, complications. And here was Seamus - one of the _chief_ complications, in fact - holding her so tenderly, ready to leap to her aid the moment she needed him; and all she could think about was the way his eyes flickered just moments ago…

His lips bent to land on her cheek and with an almost desperate gasp, Aine turned her head and caught his mouth with her own. Her hands slid up his chest and she twined her arms around his neck. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, but she needed contact with - something. She wanted to know that she wasn't just the Dragonborn title, a dragon-killer, a thief-turned-hero; she wanted to know that she was still human, that she was _real_.

Seamus pulled back briefly and Aine gasped again, her fingers twisting in his hair as she pressed herself against him and tried to pull his head to hers. He held her at bay for a moment, looking down at her with part-wild, part-despairing eyes, and then slid his hands up to cradle her face between his palms.

"Anni…" He whispered the nickname and Aine exhaled shakily, her fingers curling through his shaggy hair. He bent and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally the corner of her mouth. His hold on her was the only thing keeping her from tilting her lips to his again and he pressed his cheek to hers, without a doubt knowing what she wanted, "As enjoyable as that was, my dear, _dear_ inferno, you don't want me. Really. I'm just a convenient distraction. Didn't I tell you to be happy, little thing?"

Aine felt the sting of the words and she closed her eyes, tipping her head more firmly to his. This contact, hearing and feeling the steady drum of his heart against her, was _everything_ and she clasped him tighter still.

"And if I tell you I'm happier right now than I've been in weeks?"

"I'd call your bluff. I love you, Aine Bird, I really do, but not in the way you want and need. I will admit that road is very wide, easy, tempting; and of course something I've considered, but in the long-run, a very, _very_ bad idea. We'd kill each other, Anni, and you know it. Your short temper, my irreverence… You'd find me amusing for a while and I'd do everything to get a rise, and then - well, the inferno. And you don't want me, not really. You want your Nord and Blondie wants you," He tipped his head away and brushed his lips feather-light against hers, moving too quickly for her to react, "He always has. Get him back here and make him the luckiest guy in Tamriel."

Her mind went back to the way Ralof had held her on this balcony, almost in the same spot, the desire in his eyes, the passion in his kiss… The way everything else was non-existent the moment his mouth hit hers… She looked up at Seamus and felt that creature his own affection and embraces wakened slowly curl up into a ball behind its heavy bars and fall back into its painless slumber. She actually smiled at him as she untangled her fingers and brushed them against his face. Exhaustion was taking hold and that desire for connection had a new, singular target.

"We wouldn't last a month. And I'd love to get him back, but I'm just - Seamus, I'm just afraid it's too late."

"For you, inferno? Never."

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 **A/N... again:** I just had to say: I felt that this really needed to be a stand-alone chapter and not mashed in with the finale. These two have been up and down throughout so many chapters that they deserved to have this and now I'm going to say a true goodbye because I'm talking like they are real people and it's a bit weird. Have a fantastic week!


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N:** All right, my dear, wonderful, PATIENT readers and followers, here is the last chapter (sans epilogue, you'll note, so - maybe - stand by) and let me thank you all once again for your devotion and forbearance. I really spoiled the posting of this story and I am one hundred million times (and more) sorry for that! You are terrific people and make all of this SO worthwhile, and I love you all for that! I hope life is as kind to you and if this sounds like an end, that's fitting. Rather bittersweet and I'm sorry for that, too, but I really don't know if there's going to be another submission from me anytime soon. And that being the case, I want to make sure that all of you TRULY REALIZE what incredible fans you are and thank you from the bottom of my heart. Particularly on this day because anniversaries REALLY suck sometimes. So as always, enjoy, take care, and all the best from your catalinaD

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When Aine entered Balgruuf's office, Esbern was the first to step forward. He gripped her hands, his eyes shining, and actually bent to kiss her cheek. Aine was too startled to move and she felt a flood of warmth for the old man.

"Praise the gods for you, Aine Bird! Alduin is defeated and Skyrim is safe thanks to your bravery and determination. We are forever in your debt and no one will ever forget your sacrifice."

Aine squeezed his fingers and a real smile pulled at her mouth.

"Thank you, Esbern, but you know as well as I do that I wouldn't have made it far without you."

The old Blade returned her smile and stepped aside. Aine's gaze moved around the room. Delphine actually smiled a little - her face was less severe anyway - Farengar looked eager and as interested as ever; Irileth was a quietly intense shadow at the back of the room, and when Aine's eyes found the small knot of people around Balgruuf, her heart jumped in nervous elation.

"Congratulations, Lady Dragonborn," Ulfric's deep voice was calm and steady, "We are truly in your debt, as your Blade has already intimated."

Aine took a few steps into the room, glancing around again and more thoroughly this time. She felt Seamus behind her and spotted Galmor and a couple of Ulfric's other trusted officers, but no Ralof.

"You're back; so soon? Ralof gave the impression you'd be in the north for a while. Is he here too? Or in the village somewhere?"

Farengar's knowing smile went ignored save Balgruuf's raised hand to keep him from cutting in. The jarl had been watching Ulfric with the same concentration as Aine and she felt his confusion almost as strongly as her own when the Stormcloak leader frowned. His intense gaze flicked to Galmor.

"I'm sorry, little thing, I don't know what you're talking about," His informality grounded everyone quite effectively and Aine didn't have eyes for anyone but him, though Seamus hovered just behind her and his fingers kept almost nervously brushing her elbow, "We don't have anything going on in the north at the moment. What makes you think we do?"

Aine felt an ice cold hand curl around her spine and she still didn't look away from Ulfric.

"Ralof did. He-he told me that he'd had word from you and you were worried about Tullius acting against the Stormcloaks' northern holdings. I - he left last night," She folded her arms tightly across her chest, unable to shake the sick chill that swept through her, "He told me he had word from you."

She finished weakly, almost lamely, her heart sinking at the confused look Ulfric wore. Beside him, Galmor's quick glance and quiet murmur went ignored.

"We never sent word, Aine. My idea was always to meet Ralof here because-" He broke off a moment and glanced around the room. Galmor said his name and that went ignored, too, "Well honestly, because I thought the dogs would do the same. I mean, that they would converge here or near one of the outposts. Tullius wants the south and you, jarl, are a primary target. Whiterun is an important trade hub and somehow has remained neutral. No matter what-" Ulfric caught Aine's gaze and cut his lecture short, "Ralof should still be here, little one, I never sent a note."

There was a terrible lull that followed this and Seamus' hand gripped Aine's elbow now. Delphine had gotten to her feet, but somehow remained silent, and Esbern watched Ulfric with a deep frown. Aine couldn't look away from the Stormcloak leader and Balgruuf had just said his name when a harried steward came rushing into the room. His eyes were wide, confused, and Aine's sharp hiss drew his attention; though he spoke to his jarl.

"Apologies, my lord, but the sentries report a force of Imperials heading this way, led by General Tullius."

Galmor's axe thumped loudly against the flagstones and Balgruuf joined Delphine in standing. Aine went entirely still, forgetting Seamus was holding her.

"How close?"

"They will be here within moments, my lord."

Ulfric instantly turned to his second and Balgruuf's inner circle closed around him. Aine couldn't hear the specific plans being made, the voices were a maddening buzz. Until Galmor mentioned that there was no quarter to be provided to traitors and her heart leapt.

"No!"

She said it harshly and it came out as a mere murmur, but everyone stopped. Seamus tightened his hold, the only one in that room knowing exactly what she was thinking, and she wrenched herself away. A chorus of her name followed as she darted for the door and she didn't stop; she _had_ to put a stop to any of the madness Galmor was suggesting. She flew down the slick steps of Dragonsreach and didn't slow until she stood on the battlements with Balgruuf's men. Her back was aching fiercely, but she shoved it aside and paced the top of the wall, ignoring the looks the guards gave her and eyeing the horizon. Seamus was the first to join her as Tullius' men came close enough to make out the finer details.

They were in force - and then some. Their lines stretched across the valley, the metal of armor and blades gleaming dully in the faint morning light. They pulled up just shy of the archers' range and then a handful broke from the main line and started forward. Aine watched them, refusing to admit Ralof had played traitor; she couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- believe it. One hand pressed to her heart, her fingers twisting through the fabric of her shirt as she tried to make sense of the mess below.

It was the general himself, Elenwyn the Thalmor ambassador, and a few other dignitaries along with a handful of soldiers. Even at a distance, it was clear Tullius was fuming and the glower became very prominent when they drew rein at the stables. It was Elenwyn's smug expression that made Aine nervous, however. The Thalmor had something up her sleeve and Aine didn't like that idea, _at all_. Balgruuf had joined them and he stepped closer, his elbow almost hitting Aine's.

"My lord general, might I ask what the meaning of this is? What brings you to Whiterun with such a force?"

"Don't bandy words, Balgruuf, you know why. Your Dragonborn brokers a truce while giving Imperial lands away and you harbor both her and her traitorous lord while claiming neutrality. It is well past time for you to finally - officially - announce your loyalty. This farce is over."

"That truce was mine," Aine snapped, her temper heating when she spotted Celesse Trindle amongst the gathered dignitaries. She eyed the woman as coldly as she could manage and then turned her attention back to Tullius, "Leave Jarl Balgruuf out of this. And next time you have an issue with me, general, come yourself and don't send any - lackeys - in your place. It gives a less than courageous impression."

"And what was courageous about cutting down an Imperial captain in those very halls that you claim stand for peace? I have no words for you, Aine Bird, and I will not be wasting my time."

Aine's temper flared even more and she stepped next to Balgruuf, gripping the top of the wall so that her fingers ached with the force.

"That coward isn't worth your time or the breath to say his name. He was a base bully, a liar, and a murderer. If that's the best the Imperial City can raise up as an example, she's well and truly lost. Be a man, general, and know your soldiers before you leap to their defense. _He_ doesn't deserve it and never will."

The general actually seemed to take this to heart and as Balgruuf touched Aine's hand, Elenwyn's horse tossed its head and she urged it forward a step.

"Does the Dragonborn have proof of this?" Her tone was poisonously polite and Tullius allowed her to take the lead, "Other than her - adamant - word?"

"Of course, my companions-"

"The word of a known thief and liar, or the assurances of a skooma addict? I'm sorry, lady, I'm afraid that does not suffice."

Aine's vision started to tinge with that terrifying red and Seamus' dry chuckle actually helped center her.

"Former, but hell, I have to say I see the point," He shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Balgruuf, "What about you, Gruf? Any light you can shed on that really long night?"

Balgruuf hesitated just long enough for Aine to settle almost back to her new normal. She arched her brows at him and though her heart began to sink a bit, she knew how dangerous it was to lie at this juncture.

"Go on, jarl, tell them what happened. Please."

Balgruuf gave her such a grateful look, she felt some of the pain ease and he turned back to Elenwyn and Tullius.

"It wasn't the captain himself that held us, but the men spoke of him."

"By name?"

"Yes."

The answer came so automatically, so firmly, Aine knew he was lying. Elenwyn tipped her head in a way that said she knew too, but there was nothing tangible for the Thalmor to cling to and the moment was gone.

"Remove the Stormcloaks from the city, jarl, renounce this traitor, pledge fealty, and the City will not trouble you. If you refuse, you leave us with no choice."

Tullius' words were followed by a heavy silence; even Galmor's muttering was muted. Aine felt her spine stiffen even more if that was possible and Irileth's movement would have gone ignored if she hadn't pointedly motioned to Aine's armor, bow and arrows, axe and knife that were neatly piled near the top of the steps. Aine gave the Elf a nod as Balgruuf gripped the top of the battlements. She wouldn't have much chance to get the things on now, but it was a relief knowing they were within reach. Seamus casually examined the top of his shield as he leaned it against his knee and Percival's fingers stroked one of his knife hilts in an absent-minded gesture that wasn't so absent-minded; Aine had seen that expression on his face too many times to fall for the ruse.

"Well, jarl, what's your answer?"

Ulfric bristled and started forward, but Aine was faster. She stepped to Balgruuf's elbow and stood straight and tall, trying her damnedest to match Elenwyn's cool superiority.

"Your heartache is with me, general, and I won't allow the good people of Whiterun be dragged into our fight. And I don't believe Ulfric will standby either. So let us counter with this: I will leave the city, the Stormcloaks too, and Whiterun can return to its role of pacifism. And then you and Ulfric can go back to attempting to destroy one another to your little hearts' content."

"And the jarl goes free without a rebuke? Or any consequence? What kind of message do you think that will send around Skyrim?"

Aine spared the briefest of glances for Elenwyn and then frowned at Tullius.

"Rebuke or consequence for what? Holding to the truce that _you_ agreed to, general? Balgruuf has not made a move against the Legion or City, leave him and his people in peace."

"Are you willing to stake your life on that claim, lady? You are willing to trust that is an absolute truth and there is no possible way for us to know you're misleading both parties involved?" Tullius urged his horse a little closer and his eyes never left Aine's, "Isn't there the _slightest_ chance you could be mistaken?"

The icy hand was back at the base of her spine, fingers curling against the vertebrae and the sick feeling worse than before. She pressed her own hand to the battlements and felt Balgruuf's quick look. Seamus moved to her other side and she appreciated the steady presence. Elenwyn's smug expression had become even more superior and the unknown was becoming almost too much for Aine.

"What are you talking about, general? I don't understand," Aine rejoiced that her voice came out cool and even, "How did I mislead _all_ of you?"

There was movement from the line and three guards led a bound, gagged man forward. He was badly beaten, his hair matted with blood, both eyes swollen near shut, and his nose looked broken. The lead guard held the chain that hooked to the manacles around his wrists and he yanked him forward cruelly. The man stumbled and fell to his knees, his head drooping and the broad shoulders slumped.

Aine's hands moved of their own accord, the red completely fogging her head, and she hefted one of her knives before Seamus reacted. He stepped in front her, blocking her view, and gripped both of her wrists tightly, keeping them at waist-level. She hissed in frustration, her anger leaving her speechless, and it took a long moment before she could hear his whispered pleas for staying level-headed and calm.

"Calm?!" She snapped, her voice hoarse and not much louder than his. His pale brown eyes were tender and worried, and he gave her a small nod, "That's Ralof, Seamus. They-"

"I know it is, inferno, and this is exactly the reaction they want from you," His lips moved closer to her ear, "You can't give in; don't give them this. You snap and stick that knife in one of Tully's minions, or the man himself, and they have a real reason to attack."

"Look at what they did to him. I never should've let him leave last night. I knew there was something off; I had such a terrible feeling that-"

She was cut off when Ralof's voice suddenly sounded. Another hiss of breath escaped her and Seamus deftly slipped the knife from her fingers when her attention was diverted.

"…and she knew. It was the plan all along. Her support couldn't be known and the truce provided that cover."

He spoke haltingly, his voice pained. Clearly the beginning of this conversation had come when Seamus was trying to calm her and she couldn't look away from the Nord, though she felt the intense look from Ulfric and Balgruuf's confused frown. She felt her heart twist as she looked down on Ralof, feeling his wounds as if they were her own. What he was saying didn't immediately register and then Elenwyn cut in.

"Do you wish to make your claim again, lady? What was it you kept insisting? That Whiterun is innocent? And here we have one of your own, one of Ulfric Stormcloak's own in fact, countering that roundly."

"It's bullshit," Aine retorted and grabbed the top of the wall. Her eyes went over Ralof and she watched his head jerk in response to her voice before drooping again. Her mind started working frantically and even as Balgruuf said her name quietly, she pressed on, "Ralof? What happened?"

The Nord's head made the same movement and she could make out the clench and relaxation of his fingers, but he didn't say anything.

"Make your decision, jarl. You have proof now that your Dragonborn is a Stormcloak agent, and from one of her closest companions. It's past time."

"Let him speak," Aine demanded, "I want to hear him say it."

The lead guard jerked at Ralof and Aine's fingers tightened on the wall so she wouldn't grab for her daggers. The Nord lifted his head, those beautiful blue and gold eyes mere slits.

"Aine knew what the truce would get her. What it would get us. She worked for the good of the Stormcloaks while she fulfilled the Dragonborn prophecy. It was supposed to strengthen our claim," Ralof tipped his head and winced, his hands clenching again, "She knew. I wasn't supposed to, none of us were, but I… I care for her. It came to light when - I found out. She wanted to further our claim and this was the way."

"Tell her to let him go."

Aine jumped and nearly hit Percival in the face. He was looking over her shoulder at Elenwyn and she frowned, struggling to keep her eyes from Ralof. The way he said he cared for her… She shook herself and glanced between Percival and the Thalmor.

"What?"

"She's Thalmor, a witch. Tell her to let him go."

Seamus inhaled sharply and Aine blinked, studying Elenwyn. She still gave the impression of sitting pretty and her eyes strayed to Ralof often. At the moment, she wore a smug smile that made Aine's skin crawl and if she thought it would do any good, she'd leap the wall and tackle the Altmer from her perch just to prove she could.

"My lord general," Aine adopted the poisonous politeness Elenwyn had used and Tullius arched his brows, "Did you interview Ralof without your ambassador present?"

"There was no need."

"Of course there wasn't," She leveled her gaze on the Thalmor, "Let him go and allow him to speak for himself."

"Stop stalling," Tullius returned and he looked pointedly at Balgruuf, "My patience is wearing thin."

"Let him go, witch. It's easy enough to make your case when the witness says whatever you want him to; let's see how you do when he's not under an enchantment. Let him go."

There was a lull in which Elenwyn and Aine merely glared at one another. None of the others seemed to exist and then Ralof spoke again.

"That night on the balcony, girl, when we-"

"Get out of his head."

"Anni-"

"…and you said that-"

"Stop it, get out of his damned head!"

"The way you looked at me when you said those words, like I was the only thing that mattered to you and then-"

"Leave him alone, that's not for you to… Stop it!"

Aine had her bow in her hand without realizing she had even moved and her knuckles were white with the pressure. That memory was _not_ to be shared and as tempting as it was to hit another singular person, Meara's voice whispered a warning in her head and instead she fired at the guard holding Ralof's chain. The man collapsed and silence fell more heavily than before. Aine could only hear the roaring of blood rushing in her ears and Ralof jerked more fiercely than ever. She fixed her attention on him as Tullius shouted for his men to wait. The Nord's eyes couldn't open any wider than they already were, but the change in him was marked. His head swung between the remaining guards and he seemed to realize where he was. Elenwyn said Tullius' title, but it was too late.

"Aine! My girl, it's not real! Whatever this witch is saying, don't believe it, it's a Thalmor trick. It's not real, I swear-"

He broke off with a grunt of pain when one of the guards threw a punch. He fell to one side, his bound hands catching him just before he hit the ground. There was a long moment of mayhem and a veritable chorus of voices shouting. Tullius was trying to make himself heard above everything, Ulfric barked orders to the men with him, and Seamus had one hand on Aine's shoulder as she drew another arrow. The guard had Ralof upright with a knife against his throat. Elenwyn hadn't the chance to cast her spells again and Aine felt fear rock her so fiercely she almost dropped the arrow.

"No," She gasped and talked over Ralof when he said her name, "Take me instead. I'm at fault here, not Ralof, not Balgruuf, not even Ulfric - as much as you'd like to claim otherwise, general. I propose an exchange: Ralof for me."

Seamus' grip went from calming to possessive just that quickly and even Percival said her last name. She forced herself to look at Tullius. The general held up one hand and the tumult on his side of things quieted. His expression was intrigued and Elenwyn's mask slipped a bit, showing her doubt. Not that Aine could revel in that now; she had more important concerns.

"The Dragonborn defecting to the Imperial Legion," Tullius said the words as though tasting them and his small smile was chilling and encouraging all at once, "That would be quite the upset."

"Call it whatever you like, my offer stands. Me for Ralof. And _my_ Ralof, no enchantments, no tricks, a straight trade. Me for him."

Ulfric had taken Balgruuf's place beside her against the wall and she only realized when she felt the intensity of the situation deepen to something rather ridiculous. The man could really be too much.

"I can't let you do that, Lady Dragonborn, this isn't your fight."

"But I-"

"No, not you for him. _Me_ for him. I am Ralof Skaar's commander and lord, this sacrifice is mine. He needs to have something to return to and if your life is traded for his… It is my responsibility."

"Ulfric, please, you can't - Skyrim needs you. I-"

"And you are our Dragonborn, they need _you_. How about it, Tullius? Ralof for me in single combat. If you best me, my men will drop their arms and swear fealty to your emperor. If, however, I am the victor, you will leave Skyrim, pull up whatever outposts you have already established, and leave my people in peace to rule themselves. The Dragonborn belongs to all of Tamriel, if you take her, you will have the rest of the world against you. Me, I am merely Skyrim's chosen protector, this will be an easier battle for you to win by far."

"Ulfric-"

"Not a word, little thing. Consider this my gift to you and one of my most loyal soldiers," He reached out and actually squeezed her hand, the physical gesture more surprising than anything he could have said to her, "You, of all the people involved here, deserve happiness and rest; let me give what I can to you."

She couldn't think of another argument and she pressed her free hand to the top of his. Seamus let out a sigh of relief and she could practically hear all of the smart-ass comments he was gearing up to make. Tullius beat him.

"Are you naming a champion then?"

"Did I say victory through a proxy? No, Ralof Skaar, my man, for me. In single combat. Your turn, dog general."

Tullius' face spasmed with anger and he ignored Elenwyn's quiet protest as he slid from the saddle. It was clear he'd agreed without actually saying the words and his movements were quick and decisive. Ulfric stepped away from the battlements, still gripping Aine's hand. She faced him fully, pressing her fingers against his.

"Are you sure? This really was my-"

"I said not a word, didn't I? This is my choice, little thing," He sandwiched her hands between his palms and there was the smallest smile gracing his mouth now. It did wonders to his face, made him look younger, even more handsome, and the intensity eased into true fondness; for her. The impact hit her when she was less than ready and she took a steadying breath, "Ralof has been one of the truest, most loyal men I've ever had under my command, and he very clearly cares for you. I will do anything I possibly can to make sure his future is as easy as can be and this includes your safety. You yourself are a remarkable woman, and if you have gained his love and devotion, that is all I need to know. This war has damaged both Skyrim and Cyrodiil beyond what anyone could have foreseen, and if this single combat will arrest any further loss, heartache, distress, I am willing to make the sacrifice. As is Tullius. Let us have this, Aine Bird, and you…" He hesitated and then actually freed one hand to touch her cheek, tucking an errant curl behind one ear, "And you take the rest of this life the gods have given you and never let another moment pass you by."

He turned abruptly from her before she could respond and she had no choice but to watch as he grasped Galmor's shoulder and spoke intimately with him. The other Nord looked as though he was ready to argue and Ulfric said something too quietly for the rest of them to hear. His hand gripped the base of Galmor's neck and he pressed their foreheads together in a brotherly way that cut her to the quick. It reminded her so much of Meara, Seamus, the other friends she'd had to leave in Solitude; and when Seamus' hand gripped her shoulder, she exhaled sharply and grabbed hold of him. The Stormcloak leader stopped at the top of the steps and swept them a courtly bow before hefting his axe and heading down to his fate.

The guards had pulled Ralof off to one side and Elenwyn was speaking softly to Tullius when everyone turned their attention back to the road immediately out of Whiterun. Ulfric's men had followed him and Tullius had his own honor guard that assisted him as well. They stood in a ring around the two fighters and Ulfric's deep voice dominated.

"This will be a fight to the death or until one party yields. The results will still stand as a defeat with the losing side immediately surrendering any lands and property gained in the duration of this conflict between us. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Titus, you have your orders."

The tall, spare man behind Tullius nodded deeply and accepted the general's cloak. Tullius himself had his shield secured to one arm and his long blade glittered murderously in the pale light. Ulfric had just the heavy, two handed axe and he freed one shoulder of the dark blue cloak and let the fabric drape from his off arm. He remained standing at an angle to the general and waited for the other man to make his move. Tullius dropped into a fighting stance and warily circled the Stormcloak leader. Ulfric merely moved to keep him in sight and when the attack came, it was lightning fast. The Stormcloak parried the general's first upward thrust and swung that huge axe, forcing Tullius to dance away and utilize his shield to keep the topmost point of the weapon from catching him. For a time the fight continued in this vein, both men evenly matched and so skilled neither one could land a decent blow.

Aine's gaze kept straying to Ralof's overseers and she didn't like the increasingly slumped shoulders, terrified his injuries were worse than anyone had believed. Seamus hadn't taken his hand from her shoulder and she twisted her bow between her hands so tightly she had long ago lost the feeling in the tips of her fingers. And Ulfric and Tullius fought on.

Tullius finally landed a blow and Ulfric let out a hiss of breath. Those on the battlements instinctively tensed and Aine found herself praying for one of the very few times in her life. The Stormcloak leader recovered and attacked with renewed vigor and Tullius was on the defensive. Ulfric landed his own blow, sending the general staggering to his knees, and he drew back, ignoring the murmur of disappointment that rippled through the soldiers. The general got back to his feet unsteadily, his face bright with sweat under his helm. A new murmur swept through, this less than encouraging to the Imperials, and Tullius seemed to feel it. He let out a bellow and rounded on Ulfric, who was more than ready for him. He side-stepped the charge and slammed the flat of his axe against the other man's back, sending him sprawling into the road. He dropped the weapon to the ground, leaning on the handle and looking more than winded himself. Tullius rolled onto his back and flipped the visor of his helm up.

"Are we finished?"

The Stormcloak's deep voice was breathless and Tullius managed to work himself to his elbows. He glanced between the line of men waiting expectantly and the gathered dignitaries that wore identical disappointed expressions. The general attempted to get his legs underneath him and he didn't have the strength, falling back to the ground. He waved one hand and a stifled whoop of joy started from the battlements.

"We're - finished, I yield."

Ulfric stepped closer and held out his hand. Tullius had just reached up for it when an echo almost resembling a Shout rolled through them and a ring of fire erupted around both men. Curses flew from every quarter and as Ralof struggled to his feet, Aine's arrows found his guards. Both men were turning about rather helplessly and they never stood a chance against her. The Nord flung himself forward, tackling Elenwyn to the ground. The enchantment continued for too long and Aine felt a shift in the air behind her as Esbern countered the flames. They dimmed and a few actually became a beautiful array of near-icicles, before they disappeared into clouds of white and revealed Tullius prone on the ground and Ulfric frantically trying to beat the fire from his blue cloak. Galmor rushed forward and Aine didn't think as she dropped to the ground from the steps and flew out to help Ralof.

Everyone else was shouting and Tullius' man Titus had his hands full. The dignitaries could barely be heard demanding a retaliation to this 'assault' and to the man's great credit, he ordered the Imperial troops to stand down as he rushed to assist his general. Tullius was stirring, attempting to get away from the embers still surrounding him and Ulfric, but Aine only caught that fleeting impression as she darted past them.

Ralof and Elenwyn were alone in a bubble, it seemed; no one else had moved to help and Aine wondered briefly when it was they had gotten so far away from everyone else. The Nord had Elenwyn pinned to the ground and the Thalmor reacted before Aine could reach them. She had one hand free and she waved it, sending a handful of lightning up into the Nord's face. He cursed roundly and pulled back, giving the Altmer a chance to kick him off of her. His current weakness made this easier than it should have been and he fell to one side, letting out a groan of pain and grabbing at his ribs.

Aine forced herself past him and tackled Elenwyn on her own. The Altmer collided against the road a second time, but was entirely too quick on her feet. She rolled with the momentum and deflected Aine's arrow with another wave of her hand. She fired back with ice and Aine dropped to the ground, rolling toward her and then arching into a crouch. This time it was an actual Shout that echoed around them and the Thalmor threw up another shield in time to keep the spell from its full effect. The force shoved her back a few feet and gave Aine a chance to string an arrow, but she was able to return Shout for spell and Aine wished she carried a shield as the fires scorched her hair and made her shirt burn intensely against her arm.

The pain was worth the reward, however, and her arrow sank into the Thalmor's chest with a satisfying sound. Elenwyn gripped the shaft with one hand, her expression an absolute map of wonderment and pain, and when she opened her other palm, Aine sent a second arrow through her throat. She waited a moment, sure the Thalmor would arch back up and continue to make her life hell, and when nothing happened save a strangled cheer from the city walls, she dropped painfully to her knees and then sat back on her heels. Her bow fell to the dirt in front of her and she would be the happiest girl in the world if she never had to use the damned thing again.

"My girl, my darling girl."

She was crushed against his chest before anything else could be said or done, and she wrapped her arms around him. Ralof's lips found her hair and he barely lifted his head from hers when she tried to look up at him. It didn't matter: it made the journey from her head to her mouth that much shorter. The kiss consumed her, nothing else mattered, and when he pulled back to let her get some air, the only thing she wished was that she could see more of those intriguing gold flecks in his eyes. But in the long run, it didn't matter. Her Nord was here, holding her, kissing her, making her realize that no matter what, she was his and he was hers. _Nothing_ else mattered. She ran her fingers up and through his hair, cradling his head.

"Ralof, thank the gods, I thought… Oh, Ralof."

His hand stroked the burnt strands of her hair and one corner of his mouth tipped up.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but did I hear a 'my' in there earlier?"

Aine snorted, ignoring the pinpricks of pain in her scorched arm when she curled it around his neck. Balgruuf's call for healers was faint and Titus' arguments with the dignitaries didn't matter in the slightest. Her part was done, as far as she was concerned.

"I told you, I'm a fool," She pulled his mouth to hers, a small part of her somehow blissfully upset with him at the smug, self-satisfied twist his lips took before they met hers. His arms were so gentle and she melted into him, trembling badly when they split apart, "Oh, such a fool."

"We agreed: so am I," His voice wasn't any steadier than hers and he pressed their foreheads together, "I should never have left."

"No, but it's done and you're here now. And-"

"And it's over," Seamus' grin stretched across his face and it had been entirely too long since Aine had seen him so mischievous. He reached out and hauled into his arms, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet and kissing her on both cheeks. She laughed rather breathlessly, his happiness making the searing pain in her arm, face, back, pretty much everything, seem nonexistent, "You're a hero, Aine Bird, and who would have ever foreseen that? Little inferno, Solitude's th…" He trailed off and beamed, kissing her again. He started to pull away and then he hugged her tightly, his lips against her ear, "You did it, Anni, you're done, and I'm so glad - no - proud of you. And Meara would be, too. Take what you deserve, be happy. You know how much he wants you."

Aine felt a little thrill along her spine and she held it at bay, returning Seamus' kiss before glancing around her. The sun was trying to break through the clouds, sending shafts of light onto those gathered, and her eyes followed one that hit Elenwyn's still face. Interestingly, she realized she owed at least something to the Thalmor for Ralof's return. If not for the ambassador… She shook the thought away when that voice whispered how 'little Bird' should be grateful and wondered if she would ever be free of their hold…

And then Percival stepped back after helping Ralof to his feet and over to her and Seamus. The Nord's arm draped her shoulders and though the way he leaned against her was rather alarming, she felt her heart leap as he clasped her closer still. Seamus winked rather roguishly and turned to give them as much privacy as being surrounded by soldiers would allow.

"So your mind's made up, right?"

Her smile couldn't be stopped and she leaned into his chest.

"Was that not clear before?"

Those eyes were open enough to see that dangerous glint and her heart thudded heavily. No, nothing else mattered.

"Let me check again."

His arms tightened around her and she tilted her mouth up, finally letting that sun-drenched girl win; she wanted it more, she needed it more, most importantly she _deserved_ it more. Heroes would never be perfect, but she had strived for Aine to do better and, damn it, Aine had.

She deserved a win, too.


End file.
